


An Interest in Love

by Dabethan



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Individual chapters will have content warnings, M/M, Not Epilogue Compliant, Post-Canon, There is non explicit sexual content this time, also it's really straight up davekat and nothing else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 22,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23226505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dabethan/pseuds/Dabethan
Summary: Obsessed with the fiction he consumes, Karkat Vantas devotes far too much of his time to fantasizing about being in a relationship with his roommate.
Relationships: Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Jade Harley & Karkat Vantas
Comments: 49
Kudos: 225





	1. An Interest in Love

It's frustrating that you can't pinpoint when you fell in love with Dave Strider. You like to imagine it was during the meteor trip: when you saw his eyes for the first time; when he took a nap in your pile; when you were both constructing a building in Cantown.

In reality you have no idea when you fell in love, and that makes you far more frustrated than you would like.

Dave Strider is a spectacular love interest, all things considered. He's calm but boisterous, he's gorgeous but not without physical flaws, he's teasing but not malicious…And ok, yeah, he has problems. He's a bit of a defensive jackass, a little too blunt when talking about sensitive topics, maybe a bit stupid, far too obsessed with appearances, an intentionally terrible artist, and definitely oblivious. He had to be oblivious to the extremes if he hasn't noticed you staring at him in adoration.

For instance, currently you are openly staring at him while lying in a pile in your respiteblock. He had fallen asleep several minutes ago, probably due to his constant nightmares lately. You wish you could give him sopor. You're staring lovingly at his peaceful sleeping expression; he's on his side, and you had removed his shades before they managed to break in his sleep. You want to brush his hair away from his forehead, but you know that would be crossing the "you're a huge creep who keeps yearning for your best friend" line. Besides, you know what he's like when he's surprised. Especially in his sleep.

Instead you lay back and try to sleep too. With your eyes closed, you imagine him _brushing through your curls with his fingers, sighing while he watches you rest. He wouldn't be wearing his glasses, because they're stupid and ridiculous, and because he would want to see you in natural lighting. Maybe he'd kiss you._

Ok, that's far fetched. Like you, Dave wouldn't kiss someone while they sleep.

...But it is a fake scenario in your head. _He'd kiss you, softly, and then smile when you reciprocate (because of course you'd reciprocate. How could you sleep through that?) He knows what these sort of moments do to you. And because he knows, he slowly slides his hand over your hip, under your shirt, and you gasp lightly into his m-_

Your eyes snap open, and you immediately sit up as rigid as you can. Dave jolts upwards, instantly on his feet. 

"What- what's going on? Where…?" He's not even awake yet.

You grab his hand and pull him down, shushing. He doesn't even resist, curling up to you and sighing gently. "It's ok," you say as softly as you can (admittedly not very softly), "I'm going to make dinner. You can keep sleeping, I'm sorry I startled you."

He doesn't even respond, his breathing even once again. You carefully remove yourself, and make your way to the consumption block.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Two things:
> 
> 1\. This fic is very different from what I normally do. So different! For so many reasons! But I really love the "Karkat is obsessed with romance" trope, and writing about it was extremely fun. So here it is 😭 The next installment of Dabethan is also about 50% finished, and it's LONG.
> 
> 2\. I have made a Homestuck Twitter, so you can now follow me @phd_in_nakk. Feel free to ask me questions and stuff over there!
> 
> Stay safe, and advocate for free healthcare (if you live in the US) 💕


	2. The Importance of Being Dave

You've seen this movie many times by now, but the main love interest reminds you of Dave. You like watching it and thinking of yourself in actor Damon Carhil's place, making love to the jerk with a heart of gold who really, really saved his ass during the opening of his restaurant. You aren't sure what Dave gets out of this. He doesn't even watch the fucking movie most of the time, his leg bouncing and his arms crossed. Instead he usually watches the ceiling, his phone, or you.

As the credits begin, you give a small sniff, holding a tiny pillow to your chest. You start when Dave gives a huge ass sigh.

"Ok, like, for real. Why do you watch this like every fucking day."

"It's not every day," you snap, "it's like every few days at the very most, and even that's not true! Just let me like things dickfuck."

"You can like whatever you want, but why do you like this piece of shit in particular." It isn't much of a question. He sounds surprisingly weary, and you almost feel bad for subjecting him to a movie he obviously hates so much.

"The character dynamics are interesting," you mumble. "When Alexe comes back to cook for him against all odds like that... that's real love, isn't it? Humir thought he was just a huge cunt but he's actually reliable, and it was all a misunderstanding. They realize the love that's been there the whole time. It's beautiful." You look up at your own reflection, and find yourself getting ready to get teased, judging by the way Dave's eyebrows have gone up.

His voice sounds off somehow. "Alexe actually is a huge cunt, though." You blanche, and he keeps talking. "Don't get me wrong bro, I fucking love that the next gen human race decided dude on dude action is the hottest shit since we accidentally made the Green Sun, but it's sort of bullshit that Alexe actually is a dick and Humir has better support from Alice. Like, a lot more support. And the foundation of good relationships is support."

You continue to stare at him, a funny feeling spreading through your stomach and up your chest.

"I'm just saying that like, Alexe came back, right? But y'know he was a jerk the entire movie. Yeah, ok, the thing with Montimouslier was a misunderstanding and Humir may have been a little hard on him there, but let's be fucking real here in every other instance he was a Grade A asshole and we're just supposed to take that as charming. It's not charming, it's pretentious and fucked up. Shit, he took advantage of Humir how many times? Not an ounce of respect." He snorts. "They're going to date off and on for a whole ass year while Humir whines about how Alexe isn't emotionally available, or- uhhhhhh. Dude."

Dave grabs the Movie Tissues from the floor, and starts gently dabbing at your cheeks. You make a small whimper, embarrassed that you started crying. You hadn't even noticed.

"Dude, I'm sorry, I shouldn't just shit on things you love like that. I mean, clearly this is important to you. And it isn't even that bad, I'm just being a dick. Fuck, Kat, I'm sorry." He continues to babble, but you aren't really listening. You cuddle into him, and he lets you, rubbing your back while he talks down on himself once again. You aren't sure how to explain this to him.


	3. Disappointed, But Not Surprised

You hate Dave's comics. They're hideous, the jokes aren't funny, and they're an incredible waste of potential. You've seen him draw work that's actually good, but you know damn well he's about to draw you with a godawful steak mouth.

"If you say anything about drawing me like a fucking French Troll, I'll kill you. Don't doubt me. I know where you sleep."

Dave looks up from his tablet, and tilts his head slightly. "What do you think a Fucking French Troll would look like? Now you've got me curious. I may have to draw that shit after all. Good thing I have a Troll base sitting right here in front of me. He's a little pissy though, may be better if he smiled."

"Fuck off." You roll your eyes. You're currently situated on your living room couch, holding your usual movie pillow and trying to stay still. He's across from you in the desk chair from his respiteblock, his tablet propped up a certain way for some reason. "A Fucking French Troll would wear a barette and a striped shirt, obviously."

"Well now that's just xenophobic. Are you xenophobic, Karkat?"

You frown. "Were the French from another planet??"

"Yeah, they're from Europe." He doesn't look up as he draws.

You shuffle for a second before remembering what you're doing and you go still again, hoping he doesn't notice.

"Why are you drawing me, anyway?"

He snorts. "'Cause I want to. Jade's been hogging all the artist chops for too long, do you know how much it hurts to work so hard on my comics to make it look shitty? And then she comes in and is like 'here's the Mona Lisa everyone' and everyone's like 'oh my god, it's the Mona Lisa, fuck Dave specifically.' Also Dirk thinks I can't actually draw and that makes me mad."

You nod, and then curse a bit for nodding. He grins at you over his shades, but it quickly fades into a frown. "Actually, this is wrong."

Your heart jolts. "If you need a different model, that's ok. I mean, Jake may not mind? Or like, Kanaya?"

"What? No. No, you're perfect, it's me. Ok, it's also you. Could you move to your usual spot?"

You move over, and he sits next to you, though significantly farther than he normally does. You pretend to watch the TV, playing some muted Soap Opera. Dave hums in satisfaction. You feel yourself blush slightly, but you ignore it, instead trying to actually focus on the captions for an episode you've already seen.

You sit in silence for a while, where you have trouble breathing evenly. Or at all. Your imagination is running a little wild. Nothing's happening, and he's almost definitely drawing you all goofy and stupid, so you refuse to get your hopes up. But maybe, just maybe, he is drawing you nicely. Maybe he actually thinks you're handsome. You know he's a little dumb, it could happen. Maybe he likes your eyes just as much as you do his. Maybe he's thinking about drawing you in a compromising position, for him to look at when he-

Augh, fuck no, fuck, what the fuck? No. Besides that that's inappropriate, he is right there. Literally staring at you. Platonically. For artistic reasons. You can come back to that thought later. Jesus Christ. "So, why draw me specifically?"

"Uhhhhhh," he says. You can't see him, but his voice tilts higher for a second before he coughs and pitches it back to his normal tone. "You, uh, live here? You are here in my house. And, I mean, you're cute. Who says someone wouldn't want to draw you? Someone that could also be me."

You sit there, your mind a complete blank, while you slowly process that Dave thinks you're cute.

"You think I'm cute." Dave makes a strange distressed noise in his throat, and a quick glance in his direction shows that he isn't even drawing anymore.

He's clutching his head, a weird grimace on his beet red face. You move your head and look up at him a little. Noticing, he quickly starts drawing again. His blush does not fade. "Vantas you have to be a complete fucking moron to think you aren't cute. Like, shit dude, you made Cutest Dude on Earth C a while back."

You did indeed make Cutest Dude on Earth C once. It's a weird category, but they made it since Jake kept winning Sexiest, and they wanted to give everyone else a chance.

"You think I'm cute, though. Like you, specifically, think I am cute. You've never said that." You continue to look at him, as he draws and glances at your face. "Did it never occur to you in the years I have been your best friend that maybe I would like to be complimented for once? There is a difference when starstruck people we created have deluded themselves into thinking I'm adorable for some fucking reason, and hearing it from someone I actually give a shit about."

"I-" He looks more uncomfortable than you've seen him in ages. A terrible thought occurs to you.

"Dave, are you lying?" Of course. He doesn't think you're cute. You're a fool, Vantas. You've once again fallen into the trap of your romantic fantasies. Dave is going to show you your portrait, and it'll be another shitty steak-mouth piece of crap. He is pranking you, and he can't even hide it.

At least you're prepared.

He's gone silent, pursing his lips. "I'm done," he says finally, turning the tablet around.

It's a shitty drawing of you with a steak-mouth. Also a beret and a striped shirt. Well, at least you prepared yourself for the disappointment. You sigh and get off the couch, now that your services as an ugly son of a bitch is no longer needed, when he speaks again.

"I actually-" you pause mid stretch and look down at him still seated on the couch. "I actually do think you're cute. I'm sorry I've never told you that, and I don't think you're going to believe me? Especially since I drew this shit obviously. But I do. I actually do li- I think you're cute. This really is a prank, and I'm really sorry."

You roll your eyes and make a face. " _I_ was pranking _you_ , dumbass. I don't give a fuck what you think of me. But…" You narrow your eyes and Dave stays deathly still in that unnatural way he has. "You did waste like two hours of my time. You get to make dinner tonight." You walk away.

"Fine," he calls after you, "I'll just get take-out!" You flip him off, so that he thinks you're not an emotional wreck right now, and promptly walk into the bathroom to take a shower. Easier to hide when you're in the shower.


	4. Thinking Of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super mild NSFW warning for this chapter.

Last night you both had fallen asleep on the couch. His head had been in your lap, and his shirt had ridden up, revealing his stomach. Dave doesn't really have a pronounced 6-pack anymore, but you could give less of a fuck. You had brushed his hair from his face, watching the TV as if to prove to yourself that by doing it absentmindedly it wasn't invasive. You don't know why you still think like that. He's told you he likes it.

Maybe it's because you're masturbating in your shower while thinking about it. That might be the hang-up.

It's late morning/early afternoon, and he's out with his weird BroDadThing, so you wash the morning slime off and think very very hard about everything that has happened in the past few weeks. Granted, that hasn't been much, and it's a little repetitive. But you let the fantasies you hate come to the front of your mind.

In your head, he's drawing you when he asks if you want to take your clothes off. In this fantasy he probably would draw you less shittily, but you never really get to that part since you typically seduce him and he throws the tablet on the ground before he's done drawing. Which, probably means he breaks the tablet? Shit. That's terrible. He could lose all his work.

No, fuck, focus.

You think about grinding on him. Ooooh, grinding on his abs. That's good. Except, you don't know how he'd like that. He doesn't really get off in that scenario, does he. Or maybe he doesn't need to be touched??? Ugh.

Not knowing what gets Dave off is actually upsetting your getting off. Your head thumps on the wall as you slump forward, horny and pissed off. This isn't going to work, is it.

You think for anything, literally anything, you can use.

_Dave is under you. He's wearing something that you've seen in porn, and you have it shoved up your nook. You know he likes those, he actually has one in his closet that you found when trying to scavenge for pile supplies. He's watching you, shades off thank you very fucking much, and oh fuck damn, he loves you. He loves you so much, there's so much devotion in those eyes. He'd human marry you if he could. You're moving on top of him, and he's moaning just looking at your face, the face that he thinks is cute. 'I love you, Kat.'_

You come. In real life.

You instantly start banging your head on the shower wall. What did it for you was fucking love and devotion. Fantastic. Who could have possibly guessed you'd come from the idea of Dave; not his abs or his ass or anything else that actually makes sense, but the concept of him loving you. God damn it.

You turn off the shower, and hear voices. You stiffen, and your mind races with a recount of what just happened; did they hear you? Is it Dave??? Oh god, please don't be Dave. Please be a burglar here to stab you in the shower, and not your roommate you just jerked it to.

"-might hear this, bro." That's Dirk. He's definitely with Dave, fuck.

"No, it's fine. He's supposed to be at Kanaya's until 5." What??

You glance at your phone on the sink counter, and muffle a swear with your hand. You're 20 minutes late to a tea thing with Kanaya. Oh my god. You spent 20 minutes masturbating because you thought it was Tuesday, not Wednesday. Oh my god! You hurriedly throw your T-shirt on, before grabbing your normal grey sweater.

"I'm just saying, hyping a dude up and then faking him out with a shitty drawing is really innefective." Dirk's, like, right outside the bathroom door. You make a distressed noise before you can stop yourself, and immediately the footsteps outside stop. You have been caught.

Not by Dave though. "You sent a dude your severed head, you weird ass bitch. I know that was bad, ok, but I think maybe the long haul will be good. He'll be surprised, flattered, and like, really emotional. And that's what I'm going for! Even if it was a dick move at the time. Augh, fuck that sounds like an Alexe move. Is this an Alexe move?"

"Who the fuck is- Dave, shut up. Karkat's in the bathroom."

Dave makes a squawk of a noise, as you finish zipping your jeans. You timidly open the bathroom door, peaking your head out. "...Sorry. I woke up late."

Dave stands across from the bathroom, blushing slightly and nodding his head enthusiastically. Dirk watches you from next to him, his expression typically blank. He tilts his head before speaking. "You hear anything?"

You shake your head. "Not really, something about decapitation I think? I'm honestly leaving, so you can go back to whatever private conversation you guys were so obviously having." 

You shoulder past Dirk, who stares after you. "That's cool, dude," Dave says. "Totally cool. Ice fucking cold. I'll see you in a few hours, give my, uh, regards? To Kan and Rose. Bye, uh, buddy."

You walk out, ignoring Dave, and especially ignoring how Dirk says "Jesus, dude. That was fucking pathetic."


	5. Old Perspectives, New Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic does not and will not have kids in it at any point sorry akshskslfjl

"Have you considered just asking him?"

You glare up at your friend, over your cup of bean water. "No, it has never once occurred to me to ask Dave if he loves me. I just go about my day with wild fantasies about fucking Dave Strider and not a single one of them involves asking him if I have even a .1% chance of being his matesprit."

Kanaya sighs and rests her head in her palm. "You know, as much as I appreciate you confiding in me for advice on your incredibly stagnant love life with a man who clearly loves you and has loved you for many years that you refuse to acknowledge, maybe we could talk about literally anything else for once."

You can't think of a single other thing to talk about. "Ok, and?"

She actually groans, raking her hands over her face. "Karkat, Dave is in love with you. It's obvious. Telling him so will not make him hate you, you are lovable, and he's just as insecure as you are. At the rate this is going, you will die before you even get the chance to do anything with him."

Hmmm! Don't like that.

"Dave doesn't know jack shit about romance. Most of the time he's scared of quadrants and wants nothing to do with them. So fucking sorry if that makes me feel hesitant."

"Karkat it's been over three sweeps."

Your cup pauses at your lips. "...Really???"

"Yes, really. We started the meteor journey three sweeps ago. You've been living mostly alone with Dave for four human years." She gives you a worried look, and reaches across the table to clasp your hands around your cup. "Rose and I are married, Karkat. I know you want a perfect confession scenario, but it isn't going to happen."

You bristle slightly, and pull your hands away. "I'm not...waiting! I'm not waiting. I just want to make sure he's comfortable with any advances I could make."

"I'm just concerned that you're too obsessed with the fantasy of your relationship. He isn't a romantic lead, he's a real person. Real relationships are awkward, and they have faults."

"Your's doesn't have faults."

Kanaya snorts. "It does. Rose and I are arguing right now."

Your stomach plummets. Kanaya and Rose are the most stable relationship you have to witness in your life, and the idea that they could have problems is horrifying. "You...what could you possibly fucking argue about???"

"Wrigglers." She says it simply, and matter of factly.

You stare at Kanaya in disbelief. "No."

She sips her tea. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I want a wriggler to raise, and Rose is undecided. She keeps changing her mind about it. It seems she has quite a few insecurities about being a "mother" so to speak. She's concerned she'll make too many mistakes."

The idea of Trolls raising wrigglers is not new to you. It's extremely common on Earth C, and you've seen quite a lot of these strange things called "families." That doesn't mean you've ever considered someone you give a shit about doing it. "Why...do you want a wriggler???"

She doesn't look very surprised by your scrunched up expression. "I too had some reservations, but I find the idea of raising someone with my wife to be very appealing. I want to see them succeed, and be loved. I want to love them, and I want Rose to love them too. Together we form strong bonds, and help each other when we need it."

Your heart suddenly aches. You've never considered this angle. A whole person, a physical symbol of your love. Why have you never thought of this?

Probably because your movies, books, comics, music, and tv shows only show your age group as single 20-somethings with too much money and not a lot of common sense. ~~(And because you'd probably fuck up whatever wriggler you have.)~~

"That does sound nice," you concede, staring into your cup. You can almost picture Dave reading your wriggler a bedtime story. Oh my god. That's fucking adorable. You might combust.

"Stop thinking about Dave with a wriggler."

You snap back to reality and hiss at your friend, who looks weary but a little amused. "You have yet to even talk to him about your feelings. Tell me, in this hypothetical wriggler scenario, are you married? I could maybe envision it if you were also 37 sweeps."

"Tell Rose that she's overthinking about the future. She'll have just as many opportunities to be a good parent as she will a shitty one, and she'll have your support. She already works fantastically with kids," you snap, before downing the rest of your cup in a single gulp. "I'm leaving."

"Have a lovely rest of your evening, Karkat," she calls out. You're already out the Starbucks door. You grumble to yourself as you leave the Brooding Caverns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your comments! I have been reading them, and will reply to them soon, but it's been tough doing so atm. Sorry! I also may halt updates soon, so I can work up more buffer (I have up to chapter 12 completed).


	6. No Fault of Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: This is where the implied abuse comes in. It's very lightly covered, but it will be mentioned a few more times in other chapters

You find your living block empty when you get home. None of the lights are on, and you creep quietly towards Dave's room to check if he fell asleep.

He's at his desk, humming to himself while he fucks around in his composition program. He glances over at you. "Hey, bro. Missed you. How's Kan?"

You dramatically drop onto his platform and stifle a scream into his head rest plate.

He nods, still fucking around in his program. "Got lectured, huh? You and me both. Dirk really rode my ass today. What were you guys gossiping about this time? How choice my ass is? Just kidding, Kanaya would never."

You slowly pull the pillow away from your face, and stare at his ceiling. It has a weird patterned texture. You think it's ugly, but he insisted on having it. Said it made him feel comfortable.

"Do you want to be a...dad?"

The sounds of clicking and typing cease instantly. You hear Dave's desk chair swivel.

"Do I want to be a what??"

"You know, a dad. The human male equivalent to a lusus." You shift over to look at him. "Do you want to be one?"

He looks constipated. His hair is oddly frazzled, and he's fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. You hear him mutter to himself very quietly, unable to catch any of the words.

He eventually looks up, but still fidgets. "I mean, I don't know. It's complicated. That's a lot of responsibility. And like, I didn't really have a dad? And the guardian I had was a shitfucking bastard. So like. I guess...I don't know?" His brows furrow. "Why the hell are you even asking me that? Do you want me to father your children? There are literally so many better ways to flirt."

"Oh my god. Don't be so disgusting, Jesus fuck." You roll your eyes, but you can feel your face getting hot. "Rose and Kanaya are arguing about it, that's all. Rose is unsure too."

He hums, and seems to relax a little. "You still could have not sprung that one on me, but kay. Whatever." He turns back towards his computer, but just stares blankly at it, before turning back to face you. "Do you want to be a dad? Or, a lusus? I guess??"

"Yes," you say immediately. You've considered the concept for all of maybe an hour, but god you love the idea. A small wriggler. The human ones wear tiny shoes. The Troll ones make cute chirping noises. You can't see a single downside.

He seems surprised, but it quickly gives way to a frown. "Are you sure? Like, do you actually know anything about kids? Like, literally fucking anything? At all?"

"I know about kids!" You glare at him, squeezing the pillow. "I was the ectobiologist on my team, remember?"

"Yeah but that wasn't actually taking care of the wrigglers. You had them for, what, five minutes? Maybe? That's not even a babysitting gig. You just yeeted them right into space." He sighs and takes his shades off. You sit up straight, and move the plate into your lap. Serious conversation time.

"Kids shit, Karkat. They shit, they puke, they're always crying and whining, they fight, they bite, they scream, and they have no fucking concept of other people owning personal property. Parents don't sleep. Do you know why they don't sleep?" He raises his eyebrows. "They are kept up all fucking night with screams. They can't even bone, dude."

You aren't sure what to think of this information. You contemplate it for a moment, before asking "how do you even know that if you didn't actually have a dad?"

This was evidently the wrong thing to say. His eyes go wide for a moment, and then he purses his lips. "Hey, can we resume this one later? I'm kinda busy right now. Actually, we should probably get some dinner soon. It's like, almost seven or something. Damn, time flies, huh? That's a joke." He puts his shades back on, and returns to his screen. "Also, leave."

He resumes his clicking and typing, leaving you to stare at him. You feel uncomfortably aware that you said something wrong, but you're not really sure how to address it, or even what about it was wrong. You slowly slide off his bed, and out of the block.

That is a fact, right? He didn't have a dad, he had his evil brother. You don't talk about his childhood very much, for some reason, but you are fairly certain there is nothing wrong with not having parents. You didn't have any.

Is that bad?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this entry really shows how I have DaveKat alternate between Troll and Human slang skdflf sorry everyone


	7. A Time Of Our Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit:
> 
> Forgot to add a CONTENT WARNING:
> 
> Panic attack, and mild description of said panic attack

You aren't used to Dave actually being mad at you. It's usually the other way around, where you make a big fucking stink, and he just mutters to himself about how you don't really mean it. And you don't; You've honestly stopped doing it as much specifically for that reason. SINCERITY, BITCH!

It's been a few days now, and he's mostly kept to his room. You watch TV while you eat dinner, and you'd maybe ask what went wrong if you weren't so worried about his reaction. Today he ate in his room. You find yourself in your own block, laying in your pile feeling miserable.

You think about him lying with you. In your fantasy _you clutch his chest as apologies spill from your lips. Your eyes are sparkling with tears, and you look small and cute. He's running a hand through your hair, his other arm wrapped around your waist. 'It's ok,' he says. 'You didn't understand; I forgive you.'_

_You confess. He looks shocked, and then his hands move to your face. He bites his lip, his eyes filled with longing, and then he kisses you. Passionately. You move on top of him, sighing into his mouth. He smiles at you, his eyes filled with warmth and love. He tells you he loves you, he's loved you for 3 sweeps._

A crushing sense of sadness overwhelms your fantasy. You sit up in the pile, clutching your head as you heave, the air feeling thin. Kanaya was right, wasn't she? This isn't a real scenario. He's not going to walk into your room and demand a cuddle session where you can apologize and start making out with him. That's all on you.

You have to actually take some sort of action.

You hear a knock on your door, and you startle. "Come in???"

The door opens, and Dave slides into your block. He awkwardly stands against your doorway, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. He frowns when he gets a good look at you. "I can literally hear you hyperventilating in the hallway. You want to talk?"

"No," you say immediately, and his eyebrows raise dangerously high.

"Ok, but I'm worried about you, and you're having a panic attack. Talking helps you calm down." He takes his shades off and oh god damn it that is the worst gimmick he has. It works every time. "Come on, Kat. What's going on."

You begrudgingly move to the side of the pile while he makes himself comfortable. Your stomach burns with the knowledge that you're blurring your quadrants again, but at this point he's let you confide in him a million goddamn times and clearly doesn't give a shit. He does the same with his other friends; he has no concept of what this really means.

You find yourself clinging to Dave, just like in your fantasy.

"I don't know what I did," you whisper. He hums, dissatisfied.

"Just to clarify, this is about you bringing up my childhood, right?" You nod into his chest. "It was just really fucking rude, dude. I know I was harsh about it, but like you don't know about my childhood, man. That was so uncool. Maybe I know about kids because I wasn't raised normally. Maybe I researched a bunch."

You sniff, and he stiffens. "I'm sorry," you say, your voice breaking slightly.

He immediately envelops you in a tight hug. "No no no no no, god, I went overboard. Fuck, I'm sorry I just kept thinking about shit and I shouldn't have. Jesus, I keep doing this."

He strokes your hair and you outright whimper, which seems to make him even more distressed. "Kat I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have given you the cold shoulder, for fucks sake you don't even know anything about parents. You don't understand and I should have realized that."

Your heart leaps. You look up at him, at his eyes full of...concern. He looks really upset, actually. "I'm a really shitty friend, I'm sorry."

You blink. "You're not shitty. It was my fault."

"Ok, but I should have controlled my reactions instead of just. Cutting you off. I live with you, that's a really dickshit move." You consider this.

"Why are you mad at me? Like, I don't really get why what I said was wrong?"

He takes a deep breath, and looks up at your ceiling. "I'm not mad, I promise. It's...a sore spot for me. You know my bro sucked." You nod. "Being reminded of that is just, it's a really shitty feeling, you know? Like being reminded of a math test you failed, except you failed because the teacher personally hates your guts because your mom is fucking her husband."

You know a little about Dave's childhood, but he doesn't talk about it very much. "Ok, and why did you ignore me?"

Silence for a moment. "I got caught up in my thoughts. I didn't realize I was ignoring you. But I should have."

"What were you thinking about?"

The hand clutching your waist tightens, and you inhale sharply. This feels so intimate, so close.

"I don't really want to talk about it."

Oh. "Ok. I'm, uh, here though. If you want to. Someday."

He turns back to look at you, and it's there. His eyes shine with affection, and you almost say it right there, but he beats you to it with something you aren't sure how to respond to.

"Karkat, I don't even deserve you."

He pulls you into him, and you close your eyes. It just... there's never going to be a right time to tell him, is there?


	8. Agonizing

There continues to not be a right time. Dave keeps up with his various hobbies, and you continue to be a lazy sack of shit. Is there anyone on this planet that does less things than you? Maybe John. But whatever.

You're finally watching _A Single Critique_ again, sitting in Dave's lap on the couch. He's been far more physically affectionate lately, and you suspect that he is trying to make you more comfortable.

You feel far less adoration for the movie this time around, and feel almost antagonistic towards Alexe. He's still hot though. You could consider him as a rival. But he isn't Dave.

God, how could you ever think this dude was Dave.

Underneath you, Dave squirms. You wish he'd speak up, because he obviously has something to say, but he's fidgeting and you want him to bring it up in his own time. You'd suspect it was the choice in movies, but he's the one who picked it out.

Dave snaps when Humir finds out about Mortimouslier's trickery. _"I told you the truth, and you didn't believe me,"_ says Alexe. _"I'm the best damn chef you're going to find, and you let one editor get between us. I'm through, and if I can't work here then no one can."_ The movie is suddenly paused, and Dave taps his fingers on the remote. You raise your eyebrows up at him, tilting your head back.

"Do you think I'm like Alexe?"

The question takes you by surprise, but you answer immediately. "Not at all. You're both smartasses, but he's cruel and you're just insensitive."

Dave brushes your bangs back from your forehead. "You think I'm insensitive? Not saying you're wrong, but isn't that still a little cruel?"

You turn around to face him, and his expression is unreadable. You park yourself in his lap, trying not to think about your hips. "I think it's just a difference in context. You may not realize something's a fucked up thing to do, but when you get it you immediately stop. I don't think that's cruel."

"But...am I manipulative? I feel like, I don't know. I'm a little manipulative." He sighs. "God, is that a manipulative thing to ask? This is fucked up. Maybe we should go to bed."

"No!" You shout a little too loud, and he flinches. "Sorry. No. This is nice, I'm having fun."

He nods, and you continue. "I don't think you're manipulative. It's normal to make mistakes, and I genuinely don't think you mean to be." You cock your head. "Do you mean to be manipulative?"

Dave shakes his head. "No. I swear I don't." He ruffles your hair, just a little. "I care about your opinion of me, I guess. And I've been thinking, like, about how you like Alexe and all, and I was like 'oh my fuck, I'm kind of like him though?' And he's awful to Humir, and I don't know. I don't want to be awful to you. I don't want to hurt you."

You're melting; you love this shit. You nuzzle into his neck, and he freezes. "You're not awful to me," you breathe. "You're just right."

He gulps, and you can feel his neck move from under you. You move your hand up to his cheek, tilt his face towards you. The front door to your apartment bursts open.

You instantly jerk backwards and fall onto the floor. Looking up, instead of the ceiling you find bright green eyes, an incredibly smug smirk. Oh Christ. You actually forgot about Jade Harley.

"What the hell is going on in here on this day??" She asks you. You growl, and she laughs cheerily, before running over to hug Dave. You can't see his face, and frankly you don't want to. Your pride is a bit bruised.


	9. No Need For Concern

The rest of the evening and the next day had largely been Dave and Jade discussing music, friends, and various forms of entertainment and news. You watched them from various crannies, to show your annoyance for not including you in these, and then when asked to join you insisted that you had better things to do than _hang out with two shitstained imbeciles who surely haven't showered in at least four months, like for fucks sake this isn't the smellathon in the ballthrowing games of gladiation._

They had nodded at you in thinly veiled amusement. You stomp around your own apartment, making it clear that you dislike this situation.

It's not like you resent Jade. Or, maybe you do. Only a little. You love Jade Harley, but she's a lot. She wants to be in your business as much as possible, all the time, and she has no sense of romance.

None whatsoever.

There's obviously a difference between Jade's lack of romance, and Dave's lack of romance. The difference is that you actually want to romance Dave, and Jade is a weird obstacle who thinks she's helping. While Dave doesn't even attempt to understand your romantic inclinations, Jade tries a bit too hard, causing immense damage to your love life in the process.

Which she continues to do, right now, because she refuses to get her own house or apartment. You're listening to music while you angrily type on your husktop, dumping all your current romantic fantasies into a document that no one will ever read ever in any plane of existence. The document is labeled 'PORN!!!' so that no one will read it. Unless they're looking for porn.

You pause. You've never considered that motive.

Your respiteblock door slams open, and you give an undignified shriek as you jump about six feet into the air. Why the everloving fuck does she just barge into places.

Jade slams the door behind her, and giggles as she floats to your sleeping platform. You pick yourself back up, grousing as you close your document. "Is there anything I can fucking help you with? Maybe teaching you how to knock? Have you considered that one? Using your stubs to make a sudden but polite noise of warning before you walk in on me in compromising positions?"

"How is writing at your computer compromising?" She tilts her head, her ears flopping in one direction. "Are you writing porn???"

"It's not porn!" You scream, and you hear a distant crash from the living room. Whoops, sorry Dave.

"The document is literally labeled 'porn'."

You slam your husktop closed and glare at her. "Why the fuck are you in here."

"Uhhh because you're my friend and I haven't seen you in a while??? Jesus Christ, Karkat." She rolls her eyes before laying back on your platform. "So how are you doing? Like, for real. Not in a weird mean way. How are your feelings."

You sigh, and rub your arm. "I don't know. Things have been...quiet. Dave's busy, and I think about what we'd be doing if he was doing literally anything else."

"..."

You watch her with surprise. Jade's not usually a quiet person, and the only sound she makes is steady breathing.

"Karkat, have you considered getting a hobby?"

You frown. "I have hobbies. I watch TV and I read books and I write."

"Yeah, but you don't really leave the house? And I'm gonna be honest here, you need to stop obsessing over Dave."

You make an indignant noise, but she sits up and continues. "Karkat I just don't think this is healthy! I mean, what are you writing about? It's more stuff about Dave, isn't it?"

"No!" You pick at your sweater. "...they have different names."

"Oh, Karkat." She sighs and floats over to you, pulling on your hands to move you towards your platform. "I know you love him, but you have to do literally anything else. Kanaya and Rose said he's all you'll even talk about right now!"

"What's wrong with that?!" You cuddle up to her, cushioned by her strangely human hair texture. "I have fuck all else to do around here. I hate the fucking daytime, even you know that, and I'm…" You were going to say that you're happy like this, but you realize that that's not really true.

You're actually really dissatisfied.

"It doesn't matter," you say instead, "this is fine. I'm fine.

She pats your head. "Kitty-Kat, maybe you should just go out. Like, write in a coffee shop!"

"I hate baristas. They always act pissed off to see me."

"Go on walks."

"I don't really like exercise, now that I'm not literally running for my life."

"Oh my god, dude. Go to a theater for your movies. Write reviews. Yell at jerks on forums. Just do anything!"

"Hmph."

"I'm just...worried that you're getting depressed, is all."

"I am not depressed," you hiss. Her sigh is so melancholy that you're actually taken aback, falling silent.

"Just, promise me you'll make an effort to get out, ok? Go do something. Please." You don't look at her, choosing instead to bury your face into her shoulder. You know she's giving you the saddest and most pleading look right now, and you do not want to see it.

You lay like that for a while, until Dave barges in and asks why the fuck you both fell asleep for three hours. Somehow more tired than when you had fallen asleep, you both get up and order pizza, while Dave explains the new development in the Turtle Stock Market.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DaveKat fics that don't include Jade make me sad as hell


	10. A Runabout

Jade mysteriously leaves after 3 days. Neither you or Dave are surprised by this, but you are surprised at how quiet your apartment suddenly is. Two hours into the Jade-free day, you feel an awful gnawing sensation in your stomach, and you decide getting out of the hive isn't that bad an idea after all.

Dave watches you from the couch, tablet in hand, as you shove your husktop into a bag, along with some snacks and a novel. "So... where are you going? And why?"

You run a hand through your still-wet hair; you showered, and then panicked the minute you realized you would have to pick clothes for others to see you in. You ended up going with very baggy jeans and a sweatshirt. "I'm going to go write somewhere. I don't know, it's stifling in this bitch."

"Do you want me to come?" His tablet is abandoned next to him as he stands up to stretch, revealing his stomach. Your own stomach flips and you almost drop everything you're carrying, but somehow you persevere in this dire and grueling situation.

"And get distracted by your inane bullshit? 'Ooh Karkat, look at this, I can make a Human dick with my fingers!' How am I supposed to write with your assholery making a public spectacle of us both?"

He considers you thoughtfully. "Do you think I can actually form a dick with my fingers? I've never tried that."

You roll your eyes and give an exaggerated sigh. "You did it at 3 am like two weeks ago. I'm sure you'll show me when you figure it out again after I get home." You throw your bag over your shoulder and push open the door.

"Hey Kat!" You stop, turn to look at Dave. "Can I read what you wrote when you get back?"

You flip him off, closing the door as he laughs.

You actually do write. It's a frustrating process, but years of quick typing and absurdly huge word dumping has made you predictably good at throwing as much content into a document as possible, regardless of its readability. Regardless of its readability, because it is impossible to read. Since you write so quickly, you make a truly incredible amount of spelling, grammatical errors, and straight up abandoned trains of thought and sentences, let alone the lack of spacing and paragraph breaks, leaving a piece of work that is truly a _piece of work._

You regard your unreadable masterpiece, squinting through the sunlight that shines down on the park bench you're sitting on. Dave said he wanted to read it, but he could have just been being a shit to you again. You contemplate your options.

You could refuse, and then he'd beg you to show him, which will cause a huge back and forth debate with a lot of whining and usual Dave Teasing.

You could say yes, and show him what is very obviously your fantasies about him, revealing your feelings, and potentially leading to extremely intense sex on your couch.

...but that's unusually risky, and not just because it may be harassment to give someone romantic erotica that you wrote about them with absolutely no build up.

You decide to compromise, and search + replace your names with completely unrelated ones. There. [NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NheZ_hLCSx0&feature=youtu.be/)

You look up from your work, taking in the very quiet park you chose to sit in. Literally no one is here. It's deep into the foliage, the playgrounds long forgotten, and the only people who walk by are the very occasional jogger, who gives you a surprised glance before breaking out into a full sprint.

You suppose it could be lonely, but…

No, it is lonely. You wish Kanaya wasn't working right now. You start putting your husktop back; you suppose it is time you just went back home. Besides, you want to see what Dave thinks of your erotica.

You realize that if Dave reads your erotica, and he likes said erotica, you could actually stumble your way into finding out what Dave actually likes.

You could seduce Dave. Like, for real.

You pick up your steps, hoping to get home much quicker.

Your apartment is dark again. Dave has a problem with either falling asleep, or focusing so hard on what he's doing online that he manages to ignore the entire Aspect of Time. You don't really mind; you're exactly the same. Probably even worse, since you already have an aversion to sunlight (and no Time powers).

You intentionally make a lot of noise, stomping around and humming loudly to get his attention. You slam the door to your room, and hear him swear quietly in his. He just noticed what time it is, probably.

You barely get your husktop back out before he lightly knocks and opens your door, casually leaning against the frame. "Hey bitch. Sorry about dinner, I forgot. Grilled cheese ok?"

You nod, and he continues. "Cool cool. Where'd you go? Did you write anything?

"A park, and yes. You can also read it, because I know your predictable ass is going to ask that next."

He grins. "You like my predictable ass. Can't wait though, what's it about?"

You look him dead in the shades. "It's a romantic erotica, but it sucks so you can only make fun of me a little bit."

His grin grows w i d e, much bigger than you've seen it in a while. "You wrote erotica in a park? Jesus Christ, Kat."

"That's the part you're hung up on?" You ask wearily. He slides over, and perches himself on the end of your Human Bed.

"Of course. Everything you write is obviously gonna be a. Horny as fuck, and b. Really sad. They probably have a terminal illness that they don't know how to tell the other about, but the other one finds out and they have an extremely sad date at the top of a ferris wheel, only to have absolutely banging sex when they get back to their hotel room. A year later they visit their partner's grave, which is conveniently near the ferris wheel, and they ride it one last time."

You stare at him in horror. "Dave, what the fuck?? That's so fucking mediocre??? Be fucking embarassed." He shrugs.

"You're taking notes, don't fucking lie." You kick him off your bed and he laughs as you push him into the consumption block. You may or may not have been taking notes though.

What? You'd watch that movie.


	11. Made With Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW:  
> This chapter begins with mentions of HRT and an effect it can have in sex mechanics. Also this chapter is very mild NSFW.

"It doesn't work like that."

"What?" You're eating your grilled cheese on the couch, while he lays across the rest of it, flipping through your shared document on his tablet.

"Like, ok, if he's on hormones then the natural lubricant would have slowed down a bit. You definitely need something to help it along. Or just use the Troll's lube? Like, why does it have to be the Human's? And why is he applying it like that?"

You stare at him uneasily. "That's...just how it is, I guess? It's hot to use your partner's lube. I thought Humans had that too."

"Not all of us do. It's just sort of a weird detail to go with." His shades are on top of his head, and his expression is strangely scrutinizing.

You'll admit you expected him to be more goofy about reading your writing. He loves to make fun of your "romantic inclinations", and you know he does. It's like, your thing. Unexpectedly, he's actually really into it, in a non-ironic way. You're not sure how you feel about it.

"...What do you think? So far?" You ask, your sandwich forgotten on a side table. He looks at you finally, red irises meeting red irises, and your heart stops.

He looks so good all domestic, reading your work. His legs are spread out all over the couch, a pillow balancing the tablet in his lap. It'd be better if he wore one of your baggy shirts, but his tight one isn't exactly ruining things.

Dave smiles just a tiny bit, and your heart nearly spasms. "Are you asking if I find your fucked up Troll porn hot? Mighty bold, Vantas."

You splutter, face red, and he gives a real grin. "Which one is you? I assume the Troll getting absolutely rekt by this Human dudebro?"

"What are you talking about," you hiss, narrowing your eyes.

"Come on, dude. You got to imagine yourself in one of these roles. They have to come from somewhere. You're the Troll, right?"

He's so close, yet so far. "Yes, I am in fact the fucking Troll. I assume you would be shallow enough to envision yourself in the Human's place." Almost like you're both fuckiiiiiii-

"No, I'd also be the Troll," he says, and you gape at him as he goes back to scrolling through your word dump. "I mean, the other dude is in an ok position but in this scene I'd want to be the Troll."

Your mind is reeling. This changes everything. Everything??? Probably??? How do you handle this??? How-??? What??? _This scene???_ Does he change positions??? What the _fuck_ does this mean???

He doesn't notice your internal crisis in the slightest. "I'm not super into this sort of thing anyway though, sorry. I mean, you're good, but this is really...flowery."

You snap your jaw shut and glare at him. "It's supposed to be flowery. That's the genre."

"Yeah, but that's not my thing. You know that."

"What would you rather read, then?" You're immediately smacked in the face with shame, once you process what you just asked.

Dave doesn't seem to mind though. "I don't know. I don't really read a lot of porn, not gonna lie, so IDK what I'd want out of it." He looks back up at you, his expression blank. "I can think about it, if you want."

"I'm not going to write you porn, asshole." You scoff at him, crossing your arms and making yourself look as indignant as possible. You want him to push you on this. You want him to whine and make metaphors and push you even the tiniest bit. You'd relent so fucking fast. You want him to think about it, you want him to tell you about it, you want to write it for him, and you want him to read it later when he thinks you're asleep.

"That's cool, you don't have to obviously." Oh god damn it, Dave. He doesn't even look remotely interested in debating you, instead closing his tablet and giving you a genuine smile. "I just thought it would be fun. You did a good job, though. It's really good even with all the typos and shit. Maybe you should send it to Rose or Kan."

You make an undignified snort, and then a cry when he ruffles your hair. He laughs as he stands, looking down at you, and then you both stare at each other in silence. His glasses are still in his hair, and his eyes are searching for something in you. You try to make yourself look small. Non-threatening. Pitiable.

He raises his hands up to your face and makes his fingers form an erect penis. "I remembered how to do dickfingers again, BTW."

He laughs when you push him away, snarling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title refers to the grilled cheese.


	12. Eye for an Eye

"It is really very good. Messy, of course, but you have solid characterization and a good sense of prose. I wouldn't say I'm impressed, since I expected this of you, but I am pleased that you decided to show this to me. Even if it is about my brother."

You narrow your eyes at Lalonde, who is sitting across from you in her study. You hate the damn thing; it's covered in disturbing tentacle art and the huge hardwood desk reeks of pretentiousness. ... The darkness that the black walls create is rather pleasing to your eyes, though.

"Who said this is about Dave?"

"I did, just now." She shuffles the hefty manuscript that you printed out this morning, and gives you a thin lipped smile. "I am, of course, married to Kanaya and related to Dave, not to mention that I lived with you both for three years. I know who you envision as the subject of your explicit erotica, as disgusting as I find that."

You sit up a little straighter. "You... wouldn't know what he likes do you?"

Rose's expression twists, till she's nearly sneering. Her voice strained, she asks: "are you asking if I know my brothers specific perversions in the bedroom?"

"Uhhh, yes???"

"No, Karkat, I do not know how my brother likes to have sex. I know I pretend to, but I don't, and I don't want to. Also, never ask again."

"Touchy, but fine. Whatever," you grouse.

She leans forward. "Why don't you just ask? Or perhaps, continue to write pornographic content and gauge his reaction to each one?"

You snort. "I've been doing that. He edited this."

"I see! Disgusting." She hands your manuscript back with the tips of her fingers, which you take with raised brows.

"That said," you continue, "He reviews it all with the straightest damn poker face. He doesn't even make fun of me writing words like 'heaving' or 'writhed'. I have no idea what the fuck he's thinking about this."

"Now that is interesting." She lays back, a disturbingly serene expression on her face. "Very unusual behavior for Dave. Do you propose any theories?"

"Have you seen _A Single Critique_?"

"Not at all; I don't consume bad content." She smirks at you, watching how your hand grips your chair.

"Ok, well fuck you, first of all. But also, he thinks he's like Alexe from _A Single Critique_ , and I think this knowledge has destroyed what was left of his thinkpan."

"...Really." Rose rises from her chair to stand at the single window in the room, covered in purple curtains, which overlooks a strange overgrown and permanently Winter garden. There isn't even an actual garden outside of her house, and the window should actually face a hallway, so it's wildly dramatic.

"Karkat, I'm afraid I have some startling news that you may need to sit down for. Would you care for a drink?"

"I am sitting down. You have drinks???"

"It's cans of seltzer water."

"You want me to drink angry water???"

"Angry water for an angry man."

"You know what," you say, relenting. "I'll fucking take it."

She opens the window, which is apparently attached to a built in cooling unit somehow, and hands you a can of angry water. She waits for you to finish your first gulp before moving back to face her ridiculous window. "Karkat, I believe Dave is aware that you are in love with him."

"...No? Fuck no."

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Tell me, Karkat." she turns around, showing her grave expression. "You enjoy _A Single Critique_ , correct? And am I correct in assuming you have at some point expressed that the character Axele is a good love interest?"

You nod. "I thought he was, but then Dave sort of tore him to bits and I realized he's an asshole."

"Yes, but why did you like Axele in the first place?"

"He...kind of reminded me of Dave. Look, you know how fiction fucking works. Escapism, all that bullshit."

"That I do. Well, there is much to conclude from this." She resumes sitting at her desk, her hands in her lap.

"What the fuck could you conclude from any of this? That I'm an idiot, and Dave's even worse?"

She nods, sagely. "Yes. Here is what has happened:

"Dave realizes that you like Alexe. He compares himself to Alexe because he likes you, only to realize his own misgivings about the character may be reasons that he sucks ass as well. This makes him insecure about potentially being your partner, and has led him to having uncharacteristically normal reactions to you giving him pornographic material that is coincidentally about an abrasive but secretly insecure male Troll and his Human trans male roommate that said Troll has extremely romantic and flowery sex with. He's simultaneously trying to be supportive and not an asshole, under the misconception that he is not those things normally, in the hopes of redeeming himself into being worthy of actually courting you. Are you following?"

"Unfortunately." You rub your forehead. "You literally have, like, no fucking proof of this though. How the fuck do you know he loves me?? That's a big ass fucking leap Lalonde."

"Well, I would like to point out that he read this fucking manuscript, and also you scream nearly everything at all times. You aren't exactly a master of subtlety." She leans towards you, smiling evilly. "Also, he told me he is. Several times. For literal years."

You inhale sharply, and she leans back. "Now, normally I wouldn't betray my brother's trust like this, but I have heard from Kanaya, and I have talked to both of you, and frankly I think this has gone on painfully long. Not to mention the fact that my wife and Jade have told you he's in love with you multiple times, and you have stubbornly ignored them both. So there you are. You're not only in love with each other, but you literally tell everyone else you are while avoiding the subject with each other."

"So what do I do about this then," you snap. "You can't just drop this shit on me, especially when it wasn't something for you to say!"

"Frankly, my dear future brother in law, I don't give a damn. I do have one bit of advice, however." She gracefully moves from the desk, opening the door to her office. "Consider what Dave might find romantic, for once."

She gestures for you to leave, and you leave in a huff. No hesitation.

"You're a good writer, Karkat," she calls after you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is the last of my buffer, so expect some slower updates. Thanks!


	13. Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens in this one.

You huff and puff the entire way home, up your apartment elevator, and through your living room door, only to predictably find Dave on your couch. You realize very quickly you aren't ready to talk to him at all.

"Hey, welcome back." He sets his...book?? Aside, and moves to get up. You quickly start walking.

"Mmnhgh."

"Oh, NoiseKat time? Cool. So, we need to talk. Which sounds bad, now that I've said that, but it's actually sort of crucial. Karkat, where the fuck are you going."

You stalk into the hall over to your room, and Dave floats after you.

"I don't want to fucking talk."

"Well too bad, cause we gotta."

You walk into your room and close the door.

Before you get any further than that, Dave opens it again. "Dude??? What the fuck. Mandatory roommates meeting, we have shit we gotta say. Can't stop the meeting train babe, I mean, uh, Kitty, I mean- never mind. We have to talk about important shit"

You put your hands on his stomach, your feet slipping a little in an effort to push him out of your doorway, but he only slightly sways before grabbing your hands. "Bro, we actually gotta talk."

Dave pulls your hands away and you knock yourself into him. He makes a soft "aw" noise, only to wheeze when you clonk your head into his chest with a grunt. _That_ finally knocks him over.

With a rush, you realize the situation you are in right now. He's under you, staring into your face, his glasses knocked off and a blush spread across his face. You growl. "We aren't talking."

"You're right! We don't have to talk! Haha! Holy fuck!" He squeaks, and you raise yourself up until you're sitting on his ribs. You have to properly look down to meet his eyes, and he looks like a fucking mess.

You made him a mess. Rose said he's in love with you.

You're suddenly wet.

"I'm going to go to my room, now," you say, surprisingly calm, and he gives a vigorous nod as you move off of him. He's on his feet in an instant, his hair smoothed back down and his shades back on, smoothing his shirt with an impassive face.

"That's cool, bro. Sorry for all the fucking trouble, you're clearly a pissy little bitch today and I should go deal with anything else while you get your man-rage sorted out."

"You're goddamn right I'm pissy as fuck right now." You pose by your door, looking over your shoulder and trying to look casually hot, only to realize that that's fucking stupid and you probably look like an idiot. You turn back around, give your hardest glare, and slam your door. You catch a small glimpse of an amused expression.

You collapse onto your sleeping platform, and scream into your head rest plate. How _dare_ Rose Lalonde tell you Dave loves you. You scream and swear, muffling yourself so Dave doesn't hear as much as he could. You eventually collapse and stare at your ceiling.

If Dave loves you, why hasn't he told you so? Does he not know you love him? Are you supposed to tell him? What the hell is going on?

You think about the last thing Rose said, feeling listless and put out. You've been _trying_ to figure out what Dave finds romantic, but he's so cryptic about it. How the fuck are you supposed to find out what he likes if he doesn't like your movie bullshit, and he won't tell you otherwise? Read his fucking diary?? You roll out of bed slowly; you don't want to do a damn thing, but you haven't eaten in a while and it's your day for cooking. Outside your block you hear grunts, and traveling into your living block reveals Dave doing shirtless sit-ups. You glare wearily at him.

It takes a minute for him to see you (or pretend he hadn't seen you until just then), and he quickly stops and pulls his shirt back on while cursing. "Oh my god," he says, adjusting his shades. "I am so sorry bro, I didn't see you there."

You make a small (so, big) noise of outrage and a look of actual panic flashes across his face. "Iiiiiiis there something you wanna say, dude? I know I should do this in my own room, but the air circulation is all fucked in there and you were in your room so I-"

"Fuck off," you hiss, and he stops. Moving his hands in his pockets, he observes you carefully.

"Have you considered that maybe this is why we should fucking talk," he asks.

"You know what? Yeah, we do have to fucking talk. Dick." You raise yourself to full height, and he raises his eyebrows as he continues to look down at you. "I'm sick of you hinting that you like me but then you fake it out but then you hint at it again and we keep going in circles and now you want to fucking talk? You want to talk about what? You want to pull your head out of your ass and explain why you are actually doing shirtless sit-ups in our living block instead of whatever you're fucking trying to excuse it as? Like some pathetic piece of shit? What the fuck Dave?"

He groans and clutches at his head the longer you talk. "This is literally exactly why I wanted to talk Vantas, like oh my fuck. Maybe you're giving me mixed signals, have you considered that one??"

"I'm giving you mixed signals?!" You practically scream it at him but he holds his ground, getting closer to you.

You realize quickly that he's aiming for a kiss. Probably to shut you up.

"Yeah, you're giving me mixed fucking signals with your writing porn about me and changing the names business what the fuck made you think I wouldn't notice that??? And Alexe-"

"Shut up about Alexe! Shut up about Alexe!!!!" You push him, and he grabs your wrists. "If you kiss me right now I'm punching you in the mouth."

He drops your wrists and moves back, face red. "Sorry. I thought we...I thought were doing something else. This is why we need to talk."

"We are talking, shitbrain." You flump onto your couch and grab a blanket to burrow in. He sits next to you, one foot apart. You glare straight ahead, aware that he's staring at you.

He waits for you to talk, and it takes a minute for you to manage anything that isn't low incoherent grumbling.

"Rose told me you're in love with me. I'm sorry she did that. You might want to tell her off."

"Oh." He sounds hoarse, and you bite your lip. "Oh, that's. I didn't want you to know that."

"I figured."

You spare a single glance, and he's taken off his shades.

"...I'll talk to her about that. Sorry. That- yeah."

"You don't need to apologise," you mumble, "it wasn't your fucking fault she decided to throw you to the barkbeasts."

"She's stressed. I mean, that doesn't mean she was right to say anything, but people have been pressuring her a lot, and I've been a bit of a dick to her lately."

"You are so- why are you so caught up in that? No one thinks you're a dick, Dave."

"You think I'm a dick," he says accusingly, "you literally just told me I'm a dick man like five minutes ago."

"You know I don't mean it," you hiss, and he groans into his hands.

"I had- have, a plan. I have a plan to confess and shit to you."

"...oh." You aren't sure how you feel about that idea. "Rose said I should, like, woo you."

Dave snorts, almost viciously, and you glare at him. He has his eyes closed, his head held up by one hand. You continue. "I wasn't sure how to fucking do that, though, because you never give me anything to fucking go off of."

He looks up at that and you don't understand why he looks surprised. He _doesn't_ give you anything to fucking go off of.

"You really can't think of anything you could do that I would like?"

You shake your head quickly, and he groans. "Ok, so like. Can we postpone this? Until the plan?"

"The plan."

"Yeah, the plan. Look, I really want to do the plan. I have a really good idea, I think you'll really love it, and I've been working on it for a long ass goddamn time. Then we can talk about childhood trauma and my inability to let you know what I love about you. I mean like about you. Pretend I said like the first time."

"Fine." You snuggle harder into your blanket, so only the slightest amount of your face could be seen. "I'll wait for the plan, even though I'm pretty sure we literally just confessed to each other, but I will eviscerate you if I end up waiting for you to show me some sort of live stream where you rap a Justin Bieber song while wearing Human-dick horns."

"I completely promise you that there is no stupid irony bullshit."

You peak your head out. "Wait, really?"

"Yes, really. There is no irony involved in my plan, as much as I want to tear my own fucking weave out for even thinking about it."

You narrow your eyes at him. "I'll believe it when I see it. Asshole."

He nods at you, his face impassive. "Sick."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of buffer now! These two are really weird.


	14. Avoidance

The Plan does not come up again for several days. You mostly avoid each other, but he still sends you notes on your erotica, and you are still writing said erotica. Dave's notes are starting to slip, however, with him now adding dialogue and scene suggestions. You don't tell him you appreciate it.

You hate to admit it, but it bothers you that Dave has some sort of plan to knock your foot sweaters off. You don't have any sort of plan at all (do you even need one? You basically already confessed to him), and it makes you uneasy that you're on such uneven ground.

You're fucking thankful when Jade walks back in. She screams her arrival like a sitcom character, and you grab her by the sleeve and pull her into your block before Dave can come out and see what the fuck _that_ was.

"Wow, hi??? Been awhile since you've wanted to willingly hang out with m-"

"I need a plan to woo Dave."

Jade frowns, and almost looks...hurt? But she sits in your desk chair and spins around. "Ok, have you made a list of what he's into? Lists are always a good place to start."

You grab your diary (shut up) and a pen, but freeze before you can start. "About that. I'm not sure what he likes? To be honest?"

"Oh my god are you serious? Karkat!" She swivels around to look at you accusingly. "He dated Terezi! He had a crush on John! I think he had a crush on me??? You were there for 2/3rds of that! I am pretty dang sure you can think of some things we all had in common that he could potentially think is attractive! Jesus."

You glare at her, and then pointedly write down "Dave is apparently attracted to fucking losers, hm."

She laughs, and you fail at not smiling. "That's a start! What next?"

"I don't know. Terezi is pretty different from me, and you and John actually. You and John are kind of similar…"

"Oh! You John and I all have overbites!"

She laughs at the look on your face. "No, god, fuck, no. Dave does not have an overbite fetish."

"Of course he does! It's the only thing we three have in common." She floats over you and grabs the list out of your hands to review. "Hmm. The three of us are cuddly...you and John like bad movies…"

"My movies are good," you hiss.

"Oh, quiet! What the hell do we have in common with Terezi…" She taps the pen against the diary.

"We insult him," you say automatically, and her eyes shine.

"Oh that's it! You, John, and Terezi all tease him!"

"He's a masochist???" You guess that makes sense. "That's weird. I don't want him to actually be hurt or anything."

Jade laughs lightly. "I don't think that's what that means, or what's going on! When I think about it, you're sort of like John with a little bit of Terezi in there."

You blink at her, and she rolls her eyes. "Come on, you call him names, you're loud, you always complain about his shit but it's obvious you love it; I think you genuinely think he's cool? Which is kind of wrong, but I also soooort of think he's cool too. You can be terrifying and really stern, but theeeeeen…"

She grins at you, showing off her heightened canines. "You're all cuddly and adorable. You know how clingy he is. He probably sees you wrapped up in that blanket on the couch and melts inside."

You can physically feel your face contort, and she laughs again, floating in summersaults as she does so. "That's disgusting. That's so fucked up. I'm not cute, I have fucking fangs, Harley."

"That's the point, dummy! Terezi would actually rip him to shreds. You could, but you wouldn't." She stops laughing and beams at you. "I've seen him watch you during movies, you know. I know you make yourself all compact and babey for some reason. You should do something with that!"

You shrug.

"Whatever. Now that you have been exceedingly unhelpful, maybe you should get your ass out of my block."

"You dragged me in here!" She protests, waving her arms. "Honestly you have been so mean lately."

"I have not been mean! I have been exactly as I have always been," you huff, standing tall and glaring hard at your friend.

To your horror, she looks increasingly less mad, and more like she's going to cry. "Whatever," she says. "I'll stop bothering you then. God."

She floats out of your block, and you hesitate in following. What the hell was that about?

You're always abrasive. Like, that's your thing??? What the fuck, Harley.

The rest of the night drags on, with you succumbing to boredom and finding yourself scrolling endlessly through the Earth C equivalent of Chittr. At some point, you move to the ablution block only to hear harsh whispers from Dave's room.

With a pang in your heart, you realize they are almost definitely talking about you.

Upon finishing your business (and WASHING YOUR FUCKING HANDS), you harshly knock of the door to Dave's block, and the whispers cease.

"Yeeees?" Obnoxiously sings Dave, and you almost whack your head on the door. "What's up Kat? Kittykat? Kaardvark?"

"You're talking about me, aren't you."

Dave says "whaaaaaaaaaat? No," at the same time Jade actually screams "and what about it??" You groan.

"Are you guys going to say anything to my face? Or am I expected to accept that I've pissed Jade off somehow and our friendship has been irreparably destroyed like the planet I fucking came from."

"Don't joke about destroyed planets!!!"

"Oh, right. Sorry," you yell weakly, and finally Dave opens the fucking door. He grabs your wrists, and before you can say yet another moronic syllable, he's dragged you inside his block.

"Talk," he says, "or I'm gonna blow a gasket up in this bitch, and the power company's gonna be like "oh fuck, if only we had switched to solar power like Obama told us to, maybe we could have stopped this catastrophe of epic proportions. It's funny how it's always epic proportions, and never something less epic. Folks need to fucking chill. Sometimes catastrophes are medium sized proportions, or like, hourglass."

"Microscopic," Jade suggests.

"Compact," you say.

"A catastrophe of microscopic and compact proportions, of which this is not, because two out of five of my best friends are low-key fighting and I am not some weird third-wheel therapist for whatever is happening here." Dave leans against the wall, no longer holding onto you. 

You stubbornly stand your ground in the middle of the room and glare at Jade. "What the fuck do you want."

She makes an odd whining noise, her ears drooped. "Well, to tell the truth...Karkat, you haven't asked about me at all! For weeks!"

"So?" You genuinely don't get why that's a big deal.

"It's a pretty big fucking deal," counters Dave, "since you're a gossipy bitch who worries about people constantly."

"It's just making me sad! I thought we were friends but we literally only talk about Dave!! And then today you grabbed me to talk about Dave, and then you kicked me out without even saying hello!!"

"Hey!" You shout. "Why are you telling Dave I talk about him!!"

"I can literally hear you, you're like a megaphone," Dave responds, impassively.

You grumble, but you are starting to feel kind of bad. It actually has been a while since you've talked to Jade about herself.

"Look, dude, I'm obviously really flattered but like this is super not like you," Dave tilts his head. "Like, Jade? Really? You don't want to know what she's up to? Or Kanaya? When did you last text John?"

About 5 months ago.

"In my defense," you begin, "John never fucking texts me either."

"John has his own problems! But we're talking about yours!" Jade glares at you. "Do you understand how hurtful it is that you just ignore me all the time unless it's about Dave? And then in order to get you even close to acknowledging this I had to have him mediate?!"

"And you won't even take her on a date first."

"And you won't even take me on a date first!!!"

"I don't want to have you in spades, jegus fuck," you groan. "But, ok. Maybe you're a little right. I have been writing, but I am kind of lonely. I guess...I don't know, I don't want to think about things right now. I don't want to talk about this!"

"Dude...what have you even been doing with your time? You don't write all damn day." The concern in Dave's voice is strong, and it takes a lot to keep you from physically recoiling.

"None of your fucking business. Sleeping, mostly."

You watch your friends share a look.

"I write in the park!" You shout, hurriedly. "I'm not some sick wriggler who doesn't leave the fucking hive."

Jade walks over to you, as Dave speaks. "Yeah, but you like, stay there for a few hours and come home by lunch. Then you apparently sleep the rest of the day? We haven't even been hanging, is this literally all you've been doing? No other contact with anyone?"

Jade takes your hands, ignores your exasperation and stares at you with glistening green orbs while eliciting pathetic canine-like whines. "Karkat, we should have lunch tomorrow. Have a real catch up, where I actually get to talk!"

You close your eyes and breathe deeply. You don't _want_ to do that. You want to continue sleeping and writing and pining. There really isn't a lot else that you're good at, and hearing about Jade having an active social life where she's enjoying herself and being useful to the community is basically hell.

"I can meet you at the park when you're done writing," she continues, "and I can make you lunch from the food I've been growing!!"

"That sounds fun," Dave says casually, and you find yourself nodding.

You can have lunch, but you won't enjoy it. You'll make sure of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! It looks like I have about two more chapters planned, and then maaaaaaaybe an epilogue? Not sure about that one yet. Two more chapters for sure.
> 
> In the meantime, follow me on Twitter! @phd_in_nakk


	15. Rollercoaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: non-explicit sexual content. It's more like implied or referenced.
> 
> Also this chapter took forever sorry it had multiple consultations to figure out wtf was wrong with it

You've just started to burn out on typing when you hear Jade calling as she flies over to you. You look at her wearily, and she smiles.

"Ready for lunch?" She asks, but she's already handing you food before you can respond. You stare at a big sandwich, which is obviously freshly made.

"Where did you get this? We don't have plants like this at home." You take a bite, and it's ok. It's not very strong? But it has bacon, which is really salty. You watch her from the side.

"I grow them! I help all sorts of people with their gardens, and I run some community ones!" She shoves nearly her whole sandwich into her maw. "They let me take whatever, as long as I leave some for everyone! And a lot of people just give me stuff if they see me, just out of gratitude I think."

You nod. "That's...nice. Is that what you do? Like, when you're out?"

"Yep! I also run walks and hikes, and I like to go to art events! Have you ever seen an animation studio? They're pretty cool!"

"Huh." You consider this. "Where do you sleep? When you aren't at our hive?"

Her smile falters. "Oh, around. Rose let's me stay sometimes. A lot of Earth C citizens too. You know how it is. Always ready to accommodate a local god!"

"Oh."

You finish your sandwich, and Jade continues. "I haven't heard from John, though."

"Yeah, what the fuck is going on with that?" You huff, and she hands you a napkin. When you finish wiping your hands, she hands you what appears to be a pressed gridsponge that Dave likes to make, but it's covered in confection and wrapped in a paper. You bite into it dubiously.

"I don't know, he's been really avoidant lately. I went by the other day, but he wouldn't open the door. Texted me later that he was showering. Hey… she looks up from her lap, and grins. "Isn't your birthday next week? What are you going to do? You never have any parties. Or go to bars. Or literally anything. But I thought I should ask anyway. We could invite John!"

You realize what you're doing on your wrigglingday. "Oh fuck, that's when Dave's plan is. Shit. That sneaky bastard. He's right, I _would_ love that."

Jade laughs. "Of course! God, obviously. He told me the plan would be soon. He must have assumed I wouldn't be home, though…"

"Oh." You side-eye her, taking in the way her ears delicately droop. "Sorry, he's not very tactful. You know."

"I know," she replies, "but like, it's awkward how out of place I always am when I'm there! You guys have your own thing going and then here comes Jade to ruin everyone's romantic endeavors with her dumb dog butt."

"I like it when you're home," you say without thinking. She immediately perks up in surprise, and you continue. "I mean, don't let it go to your extremely huge fucking self centered thinkpan but when you leave... it's really quiet. Dave and I have to make up for the silence. You're a huge pain in my crevice...but also, I miss you when you're not around. And that's all I'm going to say, before my digestion bladder evicts your home-made food and also my internal anatomy all over this park bench."

Jade sniffs and whimpers, and you reach out to catch her as she buries herself into your neck.

"Karkat, that's one of the sweetest things you've ever said to me," she mumbles, and you feel your face heat. "Thank you."

You awkwardly pat the back of her head, and she pulls away with a tear stained face and a small smile. You nod. "It's, uh, not that big a deal. I mean, you know I like you, right? Dave and I really like you."

She nods back and wipes her eyes. "I really needed to hear that. Thank you." She beams at you. "You know, I don't think I should be there for Dave's plan, but I would love to have a party with you! Maybe just me and Kanaya? We could have it at her house, and kick Rose out."

Kicking Rose out of her own house after what she pulled sounds great. "That sounds terrible. I'll consider it."

She laughs, and you give her a genuine smile. "Now's probably an awkward time to say I'm staying at Jake's tonight."

You resume eating you gridsponge. "Nah, I have some stuff planned tonight."

When you come home later in the day, Dave isn't home. He arrives shortly before dinner, which is leftover pizza, and as you eat you gear yourself up for your plan. You've been thinking about your plan for about 12 hours, so you're pretty confident you can suck it up and fluster Dave.

He's going to be flustered so fucking hard. His birthday plan is going to be in shambles, because he's too busy trying to get you in his lap to remember it.

You let him pick tonight's movie, which ends up being the original Human _Wizard of Oz_ movie. You have literally never seen this. You aren't sure how you feel about it.

"This movie is fucking disturbing, Dave."

"And it's a masterpiece that stars gay icon Judy Garland. Besides, I've seen way more fucked up shit in your innocent Troll stuff anyway." 

"That's unrelated. This isn't gorey or violent, just surreal; in a fucked up nightmarish way." Dave doesn't look away from the screen, which is a problem, because you're trying to look extremely adorable right now. You're wearing your absolute softest sweater, you're covered in blankets and pillows, and you're hunched over so that you're extremely tiny.

He continues to actually watch the movie, idly munching potato chips.

You decide to make more of a direct effort. "DAVE LOOK AT ME," you screech, and he calmly turns to stare at you, hand still in the chip bag.

"Ok, I'm looking." His expression is blank.

You slowly creep into his lap, and his brows shoot up. Behind you, you hear The Witch make scathing remarks about Judy Garland, and you try your best to shut out this incredibly unsexy movie.

You decide to resume what you fucked up several weeks ago, and shove your face into his neck. "I'm much nicer to watch, aren't I?"

"I literally can't even see you, you're hiding your face," he says, but his voice is strained. You chuckle softly, and you're delighted to hear his pusher quicken. "Um," he starts, but you move your hands to his neck, and he sort of throws the chip bag on the ground. You'll complain about that later.

He grabs your waist and leans into your hair. You _know_ he's blushing. There's no way he isn't. You whisper into his ear, "it's a good thing you can feel me though, right?" You move your hands down, over his cavern-bone, down to his...abs...you pause at the abs.

"When the fuck did you get ripped again??" You pull away and stare at his torso, and he immediately starts laughing at you.

"You literally saw me doing sit-ups, dumbass." He moves his hands from your waist to rub his eyes beneath his shades, and you instantly born the loss. At least you saw his face a little. He makes a noise when you lift his shirt up, but he is indeed ripped as fuck again. Oh hell. You're going to be extremely horny in a minute here.

"Dude, oh my god you've seen my abs before. Fuck." He's laughing, but his face is still red. He grabs your wrists and pulls you into him again. "This is sudden, though. What's up." He pets your hair, and you let out an involuntary purr.

"Just thinking that you're strong enough to h-hold me down and when you grind on me." Dave stops petting your hair.

"Dude," he says, voice strained, "my _plan_."

"Fuck the plan," you reply, your voice still startlingly calm. "Look at me, Dave. Don't you want me _now_?" You drop your blanket, and pull away enough that he can see your expression.

You try so hard to look cute and cuddly, and you just know your teeth and your eyebrows and also everything else about you is in the way. But you still try, making yourself look smaller and your eyes wider. Maybe a bit of a pout.

He makes an odd noise, and you move back to his neck, shifting your hips. You slowly move up, just past his ear, and give him a small peck. He gasps, and hastily throws you out of his lap.

"Karkat thE PLAN," he practically yells at you and you roll your eyes.

"But Dave...I want to make love to you…" You try your best to sound like a novel protagonist, leaning back and squeezing your legs together. You know he can see the arousal in your pants. He frowns, his hair is sticking up, and he's breathing very, very fast.

You whine and stretch a little, and then grab the front of Dave's shirt when he least expects it. He yelps as you pull him down, leaning over you on all fours with his shades comically dangling from his nose.

He gives you a stern look. You suddenly feel less confident and more embarrassed.

"I wanted to seduce you," you say meekly, and you nuzzle into his hand as he strokes your cheek.

"Sorry. But you gotta wait, ok? I just- not now." He sighs. "Not ready yet."

"And you're going to be ready? On my wrigglingday?"

Dave grimaces. "Fuck, how did you- yeah. I hope...I'll be ready. I'm really excited."

You sigh, and he slowly gets up and off of you. 

"Well…" you begin, "you seem a bit… _flustered_ , Strider." You grin at him, and he groans.

"No, fuck. We missed the first Cowardly Lion scene, you ass. I'm gonna take a shower." He gets up and adjusts his pants as he leaves, leaving you cackling and still lying on the couch.

"Make sure you think of meeeeeeee~" you call after him, and he flips you off.

He still gives you a small smile as he turns the corner, and you return it in full.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're getting there. I am so fucking excited for the next chapter.


	16. An Interest in the Physical Reality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearly a month late to KK's Bday
> 
> Thank you [mdzhb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdzhb) and [celestial_archivist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestial_archivist) for beta reading! Love you!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Todays CONTENT WARNINGS:
> 
> Semi-explicit sexual content near the beginning, basically same as usual
> 
> Discussion of former child abuse, Bro Strider's abuse by extension
> 
> Starving oneself, exhausting oneself
> 
> Passing out from both or either of the above things
> 
> Necrophilia mention at the end

The day of your wriggling, Jade brings cupcakes to your lunch. You find cupcakes to be an odd food item; they don't have as much frosting as cake, and the cake part is always flavored very oddly. You dislike how the mush sticks to the roof of your mouth and between your fangs.

"I like your outfit!" Jade tells you conversationally, draped over your shoulder with her tail lazily flicking. "You should dress like this more often."

You're wearing a grey button up shirt with a black sweater vest that Dave bought you years ago. You didn't have particularly nice pants, so you continue to wear your black jeans and hope no one notices. You're also wearing your Perfectly Generic brand sneakers, because like fuck are you going to wear any other shoes at any point.

"Well, take a big old fucking gander at Karkat Vantas because thankfully I am never dressing like this again," you start. "Strider left a note saying to dress for a date. It's fucking weird though, stupid bitch didn't tell me when the date actually is. So I'm just dressed like this for-fucking-ever now."

"That's because it's a surprise, doofus!"

"Yeah, but I'm in gog damn suspense all day until he pops out of nowhere to declare romance or whatever. Fucking hell." You look around, as if the idiot would appearify and kidnap you from your picnic. Which is actually a likely thing he would do, so you guess that's justified?

"Shut up and enjoy your cupcake!!!" Jade mashes another one directly into your mouth, and you glare at the suspicious Crocker brand logo on the box.

"I hate cupcakes."

Your Spontaneous Dave paranoia continues the whole way home, where you find an empty apartment and absolutely nothing to do. You plug in your devices before making your way to the living room.

Several hours later, you’re still sitting on your couch. The day has been extremely boring since your outing with Jade, and you regret past you listening to your not-boyfriend. Honestly, how dare he not at least warn you that you're going to be bored out of your mind.

You yawn once, messaging Dave to hurry whatever the fuck he's doing and sifting through birthday messages, when your palmhusk vibrates.

You're surprised to find that it's Rose.

TT: Happy wriggling day, Karkat.  
CG: THANKS.  
TT: Also, if you have a moment:  
TT: I would like to apologize.  
CG: OH. I MEAN, YOU DON'T HAVE TO WAIT FOR ME. I'M FINE WITH YOU PROSTRATING YOURSELF BEFORE ME AT ANY TIME.  
TT: I shall ensure my groveling is particularly pitiful and sad.  
CG: GROSS.  
TT: In all seriousness, however, I feel terrible.  
TT: As you know, I have had some problems with my sense of self as of late, and Dave's obsession with you increased some of my stress. This is of course no excuse, but merely an explanation.  
TT: I have apologized to Dave, because it is really him that I slighted the most, but you are important as well. I have heard from Jade that I am being kicked out of my house in the next few days in order to support a wriggling day party for you. I believe that this is most fair considering the circumstances.  
TT: I also hope to spend some time with my brother. I believe that I owe him.  
TT: I'm very sorry for ruining Dave's confession, Karkat.  
CG: IT'S FINE. I MEAN, AT FIRST I THOUGHT MAYBE THIS WAS THE END OF ROMANCE AS I KNEW IT.  
CG: THEN I REALIZED THAT THAT WAS FUCKING INSANE. WE'VE BEEN FINE, EVEN IF MAYBE THIS WAS ONE OF THE STUPIDEST WAYS WE COULD HAVE GONE ABOUT THINGS.  
TT: Oh, it really is nonsensical of him, but you are going to love it. It really is a perfect confession for you.  
CG: UGH.  
CG: I'M SIMULTANEOUSLY HORRIFIED AND EXCITED.  
TT: It's going to be fine. Dave is a reliable person, despite appearances. And he really, truly loves you Karkat.  
TT: I wish you the best of luck tonight.  
CG: THANKS, LALONDE.  
CG: I HOPE YOU AND KANAYA WORK THINGS OUT.  
TT: On the contrary, we already have.  
TT: We'll tell you about it when you come over next.  
CG: I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR IT.

You wait for Dave, watching the TV screen play _The Troll Sound of Music_. You aren't really a fan, but it's what's on and you're too tired to change the channel. Bit by bit, you curl yourself up on the couch, and though you make a valiant effort, you can't keep yourself awake for much longer.

_You are sprawled across Dave's lap, a hand in his soft hair as he kisses your neck. You whimper, and he pulls away to give you the most adoring look you've ever seen. You whine at him, that you think he's gorgeous, that he's so funny, that you love him, and you find yourself drawn back in, being kissed far deeper than you'd ever managed with anyone else, and you realize that neither of you are wearing clothes._

_"We can't fuck on the couch," you inform him matter of factly, while still feeling him up with great intensity. "It's very unsanitary."_

_"Don't care, want to feel you," he groans, and when he pushes you down you can't help no longer giving a fuck._

You awaken in the evening, long after sunset, to the sound of your doorbell.

Your mouth tastes disgusting, and you do your best to replenish your saliva while you stumble to your feet. The doorbell keeps going,

"I'm coming!" You hoarsely yell at your visitor, blearily wondering why you're wearing nice clothes again.

You open the door to see Dave in a suit. It's red, bright red, much more your "color" than his, and he's holding an honest to fucking god bouquet of red roses and… a box of chocolates??

"Oh."

"Hey." He hands you the flowers and chocolate, and you take them carefully. When you don't move, he gently tugs you out into the hall. "So… want to go on a date?"

"Yes," you say immediately, and he turns to lock the door. You awkwardly shift, still holding your gifts. Your face burns. "Uh… what are we doing? Exactly?"

"It's a surprise," he says, taking your arm. He leads you down to the pavement, and you do a double take when you realize he actually got you a fucking car.

"Do you even know how to drive??" You get shotgun, and he carefully takes your items and moves them to the backseat.

"Nah, this is self driving. New model from Skaia Net." He buckles, but leans his chair back as the car comes to life on its own. "It's already programmed, don't worry."

"Right." You watch the neighborhood go by, your stomach in your throat. "So, I'm assuming this is a classic Human date? All the tropes?"

"All the tropes and then some." He sounds proud, and when you glance his way his face is beaming. You find yourself smiling.

You ride mostly in nervous silence, but not for very long. You end up stopping at what is blatantly a boardwalk carnival. As the car parks itself, you stare at him through narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Carnivals. I know. You have to admit though, they are a classic." You sigh, but get out all the same.

It's early June, so the air is fairly warm even at night. You follow Dave through the mostly winding down carnival, and he immediately stops to order a pretzel and a candy apple.

You take your pretzel and grin as he promptly injures himself by biting into the hard as fuck caramel shell of his treat. You pat his back as he swears, and he ends up throwing most of it away.

Odd.

"Is this it? Just here for the tropes?" You ask, shielding your eyes slightly from the bright lights of some of the booths.

"I thought you'd like it. It's classic, it's really pretty at night, and there's fun things to do."

You snort. "And what fun things are those, Dave?"

He grabs your hand and drags you over to a booth. "Watch, I'm going to knock all that shit over and win you a stupid toy."

"I don't want a stupid toy," you say immediately, and he gasps.

"Karkat Vantas, this stupid toy is a symbol of my love for you. That's why I am aiming to get the lobster. Everyone knows you are just like a lobster. All buttery and red and technically a big ole bug that we decided was a delicacy. You're my delicacy, Kat."

"I want the crow plushie."

"You're getting the fucking lobster, dude, I just did that whole spiel of course you're getting the lobster now."

You roll your eyes, but stand back as he pays the carnie and throws some tennis balls. He swears each time, missing narrowly.

"Here." You hand the carnie some of your own money, and take careful aim.

You win all three rounds, and you select a big crow plushie. You hand it to Dave, whose mouth has gone completely flat.

"Ok, I get it. You're better than me at some things. Makes sense. Can't be great at every little thing I do. It's fine. Enjoy your plushie, you earned it."

"The plushie is for you." You hand it to him, and he turns beet red before mumbling a thank you. He continues to mumble to himself as you walk along the boardwalk.

After a few minutes, he seems to have relaxed. He takes your hand again, and swings your arms slightly as you make your way towards the ferris wheel.

"Oh fuck," you say, and laugh mirthlessly. "You better not be telling me you're dying."

"Kind of the opposite, actually. I don't think I've ever felt more alive." He pays for the ride up, and you both climb into the small cabin.

It's a very large wheel, and you can see just about everything, even when you're only slightly off the ground. "Wow."

He pulls you over to sit next to him and you carefully lean your head on his shoulder, taking care not to hurt him with your horns. "This is kind of fun."

"Oh," he says, and then clears his throat. "Good. Ok, so, I may have actually had some news for you that isn't death related."

"Oh." You lift your head to look at him, but he's staring straight ahead. The lights from the carnival dance across his profile. You wait for him to continue.

"So, you know my bro?"

"Yeah, I know your fucking bro."

"Ok, so, did you like. I mean maybe you did, I don't know." He stares at his shoes.

"Spit it out, Dave."

"Did you ever look early into my timeline? During the game? Did you see what he was like?"

"No. That was literally so unimportant," you say, before thinking better of that statement. "Unless, I mean. It was probably important to you? Your childhood, I mean. But not to me at the time. Cause I didn't know you. And we were kind of busy."

"Yeah we were really busy." There's a pause, an uncomfortable one, and you wait patiently for him to continue. "He beat me."

"Oh." You aren't really sure how to respond to this. That isn't normal with Humans, right? Of course not, it's clearly bad, he is presenting this in a way that is clearly negative. What is wrong with you. Tell him you're sorry. Sound regretful, he's pitiful right now. "I'm… sorry?"

"No, look. I don't really. I don't want you to say anything about my childhood, ok. Like, can I just say stuff?"

You nod, secretly grateful. "Yes. Of course."

"Ok. So, I wasn't allowed to, like. I mean you know how I was. Still am, sometimes. About gender."

"Yes."

"He didn't really talk a lot. He was always really… I mean I'm not gonna lie, dude. He seemed like a puppet himself sometimes. Bro was way fucking creepy. But there's a lot of stuff that just… went without saying.

"Like I guess Dirk is gay. So my bro was probably gay? I don't know. But he was really into being masculine and like mocking other boys for being girly, you know? So. I watch TV and shit, and you know what TV and the internet says the least masculine dudes out there are? Gay ones. And trans ones. And Asian ones. Media sucked ass, Kat."

"Right."

"Anyway, this is why I'm. You know."

"Oh."

"Yeah." Another pause. "God, I'm so sorry."

You blink at the man sitting as far from you on the bench as he could manage. "It's not your fault. I'm not even sure what you're trying to fucking apologise for."

"Hey, you gotta get out of here," says a random carapacian, who evidently operates the ride. They have opened the door to your car, exhaustedly leaning into it.

You fume in your seat, refusing to move. "Ex-fucking-cuse me, can't you see we are in the middle of something right now?! Jesus, just run the wheel again."

"Shit, sorry. I'll pay you for another round. Here." Dave pulls out a wad of money, which you notice is far more than reasonable for a fucking ferris wheel ride, but the carnie says nothing more past the raise of their brows.

The wheel starts moving once more, and Dave turns back to face you. "Anyway, whatever it is, it's not your fault," you inform him a bit matter of factly.

"I know that."

"So why are you apologizing??"

He purses his lips. "Because… I'm a dick now. I tried so hard to emulate him, and now I D K how to stop."

"What? You don't beat me, the fuck???"

Dave sighs. "No, like. I ignore you when I'm mad. I'm mean sometimes, I don't show or tell you what I'm thinking because… because it's really hard. I'm sorry. I'm such a dick, and I feel like I'm always atoning, and I'm sorry."

You groan. "Dude, what the fuck? No??? No. What? No. I'm a huge asshole and you don't give a shit. You literally just react to me, and yeah, sometimes it's bad but it's obvious you didn't mean anything, and you make a real fucking effort to be better!"

"But…"

"No buts! What the fucking hell! Not only are you a good fucking person, but you also aren't expressionless at all. I can see almost everything you think on your gogdamn face!"

"But I ignored you!"

"Once!" You shriek. "Didn't do it before, for ten fucking years, and you haven't done it since and you’ve expressed remorse! Shut up!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"I don't- I don't deserve someone like you, ok? I'm not a real hero and I don't deserve to really get the guy!"

"Then what the fuck was the point of all this???"

"Because… you deserve it. This is for you. Tonight's just- it's everything you've ever wanted."

"I wanted you," you spit out, and he has the audacity to look surprised.

"… oh."

"I've always wanted you."

"…" 

"Why in the shitting hell are you surprised by this???" You ask him as he begins to wring his hands with nerves.

"I don't know. I thought… I mean, you deserve a good love interest. Like, the perfect one. You know what I mean. I'm not that guy."

"No, you're better."

His head whips towards you so fast, you almost cringe in horror. " _Christ_ , did you like, rehearse that? What the fuck sort of cheesy-ass movie script line?" He asks you, evidently appalled.

"Shut up, it was good! It was good and you know it!!!"

He seems to soften slightly. "Fuck, dude. Shit. …Do you mean it?"

"Yes. You're really all I ever want. I think about it, like, all the fucking time."

"Wow."

"I can't believe you asked me on a date and planned to just announce that I shouldn't love you."

"Ugh, fuck you're right, I-"

"-have planned a perfect night and you aren't going to ruin it by continuously blabbing about how much you suck, Strider." You announce, kicking him slightly, and he gives you a small smile.

"Right. Right!"

"I'm sorry, could you guys please get off the fucking ride, now?" Your operator has appeared again, apparently unsatisfied with the ridiculous amount of money they've already received.

"Yes!" Dave exclaims, and you find yourself being pushed out.

Dave dragged you back to the car, claiming that you can't have more fair food for some reason.

The reason is that you're going to dinner.

"Are we seriously getting dinner after going to a boardwalk carnival and eating greasy ass carnival food? Really?"

"Yep," he says in his usual monotone, but you still notice the small smile.

The restaurant is unbearably fancy, and you wish you had worn literally anything other than a sweater vest and black jeans. You look like an underdressed tool, and Dave's wearing a full goddamn suit. Jesus christ.

He looks at you oddly while you grumble to yourself, on the way up to the threshold. "What's up?"

"I'm not wearing a suit," you practically spit, and he just looks confused.

"You don't own a suit."

"Well I should, seeing as how I apparently need one," you grumble, and he laughs.

"You look great. I just like wearing suits." Dave holds the door open for you, and you stomp your way inside.

Before you can say anything else about clothes, you are bombarded with attention by a waiter, who hurriedly seats you and hands you menus. It's dark as hell, with a single light above you both, and you cringe upon recognizing Pitbull of all things playing.

"No small stringed stick instrument?" You ask, and he grins.

"Hell no, only the best tunes for my best bro. Pants be droppin', the party be poppin'. You know how it is."

You stare at him. "I don't know how it fucking is."

"Yeah, ok, you probably don't. That's true. Anyway. About the bro thing."

"What about him?" You open your menu, and he frowns.

"What? No, not Bro, the bro thing. Best bros. Us."

"Oh. What?" You can see him fidgeting under the table. He hasn't even opened his menu.

"Well, it's just. I mean. So you know how we're bros, right?"

You shut your menu. "Yes, Dave, I know we're bros. What about it."

Dave’s mumbling, something about "maybe waiting to talk about this at home," when he suddenly yells "Do you want your birthday present???"

You stare at his red face, nearly blown back in startled confusion. "My what?? Wriggling day present?? What??"

"I have it, hold on," he pulls out a thin board-like wrapped present, and hands it to you.

You stare at him quizzically, and slowly take it from his hand. A bit overly conscious that you are in a fancy restaurant, in the dark, with staff around you listening to everything you fucking say, you try to open it carefully.

It's a small poster of you. Specifically, a drawing of you, in a surprisingly realistic and detailed style. You're proportioned correctly, and you look unsettlingly pretty. You stare at it, before finally glancing up at Dave, who looks like he's about to pass out from stress.

"Who drew this?" You feel strange, your digestion sac fluttering and your face burning.

"Uh, I did? I drew this. It's from when you, uh, were modeling for me. I was doing that for this. It was a, uh, surprise." Even with his shades, you can tell he's staring at his lap.

Your throat feels tight, and your chest sort of hurts. "You made me too pretty," you mumble, and he makes an odd noise.

"That's how you look. Like, this is how you look when we watch TV. That's what I see, when I look at you."

You frown at the picture. You're sort of torn on it; on one hand it's unexpectedly stunning and sweet, and on the other hand, there's no way you look that nice. You're a fucking gremlin. Has he ever looked at you?? Your teeth are too big for your mouth, for fuck’s sake.

"Oh god, you hate it," he says, and when you look up you realize that he's shaking. "I'm sorry, shit, I should have got you something better. I knew art was a cop-out, fuck, I-"

"Dave, calm down." You set the drawing aside, and lean forward to grab his hand. "It's gorgeous, and I love it. I actually love it. I just have my own hang-ups. That's my own hoofbeast shit, and not yours, ok?"

He frowns deeply, and you feel a pang of guilt. "Ok, but you clearly aren't excited about it, and like I know I'm not the best artist and… ok maybe Dirk was right again. God damn it."

He nods, but he's still shaking, holding your hand in a death grip. "… maybe we should order," you suggest, but he starts mumbling under his breath.

"Should have gotten the novel, I mean they'll send it to him anyway probably but _ugh_ fuck why didn't I just ask him what he wanted? Now-"

"Dave?" You wave a hand in front of his face, and realize that he's a bit… out of it. You yelp when his hand goes slack and he falls out of his seat.

The lights flicker on, and suddenly you and about 6 other people are crowded around your unconscious not-boyfriend on the floor. You start swearing, but someone is already grabbing his wrist and checking his pulse. You're assured that he's alive, and he slowly starts to stir.

"Fuck." He tries to get up, but clutches his head when he tries to do so. You immediately prod him back down to the floor, and start asking him questions, but he interrupts instantly.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, please don't panic. I just haven't eaten for a while." He rubs his eyes under his shades, and the staff around you immediately spring to action, running off to do who knows what.

"What? When did you last eat?" You ask while dreading the answer, and your concern seems to be warranted when he responds with "32 hours and 25 minutes."

" _32 hours??_ " you gape at him, and he groans back while trying to hide his face.

"Yeah, ok, maybe I've been too worked up about this. I just thought, you know, I could do some loops, make sure everything's perfect before I've got you swoonin' like a southern belle in the heat of the afternoon sun where you're parked outside next to the saloon wearing those really nice flouncy dresses, hey, have you ever said the word flouncy before? God that is so fun to say. Flown-saaaaaay-"

"Shut up and drink your fucking juice," you snap, while a waiter hurriedly thrusts a juicebox into Dave's face. He takes it without question, watching you apologetically while you bite the shit out of your nails. "I can't believe you time traveled for this. And then didn't eat?! I assume you didn't sleep either. God, this is the dumbest thing you've ever done. I'm not even worth this bullshit, idiot!"

You're thrown for a loop when he gives you the most genuinely hurt look you've ever seen. 

Your not-boyfriend stands up slowly, and reaches for his chair. He stares at you silently for a few moments, as some of the staff hover around the two of you nervously.

"You shouldn't… I mean, no matter how great I am, it's not worth it if you're hurt, ok?" You look him dead in the shades, and you can tell his eyes are actually pointed at his lap.

"Yeah, I guess," he says, and you doubt he believed a word you just said. "We should probably eat though, if I'm honest. We still have stuff to do. Really excited about that. Also, I might die if we don't."

You grab your menu again before you yell at him. Would dying of exhaustion and malnourishment be heroic if it was for your benefit? Goddamn it, Dave.

You order quickly without really thinking, and dinner is eaten with very little small talk. Mostly about your day, with Dave refusing to admit to you how hard he's been working on this. He rushes through his food, and it makes you do the same, since the idea of him and an entire restaurant staring at you while you eat is _extremely_ unnerving.

It is overall, an incredibly awkward dinner experience.

When you're done he hurries you out, and you notice he tips _very_ generously.

It dawns on you that you were in there long past closing.

"You ass, did you rent out the restaurant??"

"Hell yeah," he says, looking immeasurably proud for the first time in a while. "Can't say that isn't maybe the sickest damn thing I've ever done. Like, did you see that? Whole place to ourselves."

You groan. "Oh my god you're a tool. Besides the fucking obnoxious waste of money thing, why in the hell would you pay to have a restaurant stay open past closing _and then almost immediately leave_?"

You watch him struggle with his seatbelt, mumbling as he does so. "We've got a fucking schedule man, we got shit to fuckin' do."

You roll your eyes and watch the city go by quietly.

Eventually, you speak.

"Why aren't we talking?"

"We are talking. We've been talking." Dave is turned away from you, watching the window with his chin in his hand.

"Yeah, ok," you say, "but you've been bizarrely quiet since the ferris wheel, and like. We should talk?"

"What, just fill silence?"

"Yes?? What kind of date is it if we don't talk??"

"Well… I mean we did the ferris wheel?"

"And you expect us to not talk for the entire rest of the time??" You gawk at him, and he finally turns towards you, grimacing.

"Ok, that sounds stupid when you say it out loud, but no, we were gonna talk when we get home."

You groan. "Dave, that's moronic. Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise."

"Well, I don't want a surprise. What is it?"

"… a movie," he sighs.

"What movie?"

"A secret."

"God damn it. Just fucking tell me, wormfucker."

"No."

"Yes!"

"No."

"Yes!"

"We're here."

"Oh."

You angrily unbuckle your seatbelt, muttering to yourself and cursing. Dave quickly hops out and rushes over to your side to open your door, which you glare at him for. You stomp after him towards the gorgeous 1920's Earth style theater you were apparently going to.

The movie is a sequel to _A Single Critique_ , called _Many Many Critiques_. The plot follows Humir being horribly and brutally dumped by Alexe, only to be consoled by his childhood friend. His friend then confesses, and they have a decent relationship where they respect and appreciate each other and adopt six cats.

Dave is stiff and paying rapt attention the entire film. It weirded you out to watch him give so much of a shit, but you nod along to his hushed running commentary about the film anyway.

The way home proved Dave to be so tired that he just doesn't stop. He fidgets, he chatters nonstop, and he's shaking slightly. "They're better than Alexe, right? Like they're still a bit of a jerk but they're not a full blown douchebag." You nod. "God, they're so much better. Did you see how they looked at him when he was holding those flowers? That was true love."

"I guess."

His smile falters, and he glances at you all worried, behind his shades. "You had fun, right?"

"Yeah, it was a good movie." This was true. It was actually quite a good movie, and a surprisingly satisfactory conclusion compared to its original film. "I'm kind of over that series, but I loved how excited you were about it? And I do like this love interest better than Alexe."

He nods vigorously, and cracks his knuckles. You notice that he's started rocking slightly in his chair. "Hey," you ask, "how tired are you, exactly?"

"Um," he stills and looks at his lap. "Pretty tired? I haven't slept in a while."

"A while," you repeat. "By a while, you don't mean several hours, do you?"

"Waiting is- it's like excruciating, ok? Jesus."

"Strider- fucking hell."

"I was too hyped bro! You're really hot!" Dave turns beet red. "If that's ok to say! As your date!"

"Of course it's fucking ok," you sigh. You bump your head against the car's side window, and think of how you're going to get Dave to take better care of himself after this venture. "How long since you've slept, moron?"

"Not as long," he quickly assures you. "Just for like, maybe a full day?"

"That's still fucked! That's _obviously_ fucked!" You groan, and he grimaces.

"Look, we can talk about it inside, ok? Like, please calm down, things have been stressful for me today and I'm honestly fine. We're almost home, anyway."

You huff, reach behind you, and take hold of the box of chocolates that were sitting with your other presents in the back seat. You steadily start funneling them into your mouth. Dave watches you absently, and you make sure to make eye contact. The box is small, so you make it to the bottom in short order, though you do hand Dave the last piece. He gives you a shy smile before he nibbles the treat.

As he finishes, the car pulls up to your complex, and you both climb out onto the street. Dave throws your bouquet into your hands, and slams the door. Unnervingly, the car lights back up and drives away.

"Back to Skaia Net Labs," Dave informs you, as you walk into the complex and up to your apartment door.

You stand there, holding your flowers, watching him with increasing concern. He's swaying a bit, fidgeting with his jacket hem, and you're about to ask if he's ok when he grabs your shoulders. "Kat, ok, I'm gonna fuckin' do it. I'm gonna ask. Can I kiss you? It's ok if no, we did a lot and you're probably tired and also holding flowers, fuck, are those thorny? Like are you bleeding right now? That'd be so fucked up like happy birthday, I love you, have some stab. Anyway, can I kiss you?"

"Yes???"

"Oh, good." He continues to stare down at you, holding your shoulders for a second. You wonder if maybe he's passed out standing up. You tilt yourself up onto the tips of your toes, in an attempt to prompt him.

He immediately smashes his face into yours, and two things happen. The first is that you both groan because he fucking knocked your heads together and it hurts like a motherfucker. The second is that your mind goes blank and your heart instantly melts.

He holds you tighter and tries to tilt his head, but he catches on your fangs and flinches. You pull away and make a soothing noise, which seems to invigor him into grabbing your waist and pulling you into him harder. You practically faint. You might have, honestly. The next thing you know, your flowers are moderately crushed between you and he's basically holding you up, his entire face red.

"So… mind inviting me in?"

You blanch. "For what??"

"Coffee?"

"Dave, you _live_ here."

"So, is that a no?"

"Get inside, fuck."

You step into the darkness of your living room, and it just feels weird. It feels uncomfortable. The light switches on, and you see him, exhausted and frankly a little sickly. His suit looks worn now, or maybe it has this whole time and you were too starstruck to notice. He certainly is acting like nothing about him is out of sorts; he smooths his jacket and makes his way to the kitchen, presumably to actually make coffee.

You stalk after him. "So what? We drink coffee at some unsufferable fucking hour in the morning? After all that?"

"Well, yeah." He turns to face you. "You drink your fucking coffee, and then we probably bone."

"We _bone_?" Your mouth falls open and he winces at your tone. "You stupid bastard, we _bone_? After all of that, all that fucking work, you think we're going to _bone_?"

"I guess not??" He grimaces down at his press. "Fuck, I don't want to pressure you or anything, I just thought-"

"Pressure me??? _You passed out before we ordered dinner_ , moron!"

You grab him by the arm, dragging him towards the hall. "You are going to go to _bed_ so that I'll stop worrying about you, you sad sack of shit!"

"Dude, I'm fine. I want to talk to you, ok? Can we talk? About boyfriend stuff? Shit, I mean, can we talk about potentially being some form of committed monogamous red-style partnership? In a together way? In a-"

You push him onto his own bed, and slam his door shut.

"Oh shit, when did we get in here??"

"When you started rambling like a dumbass. We can talk but you have to get undressed."

"Oh, shit."

"For bed."

"Aw, shit."

It's right then that you notice the state of the room.

"Are these candles???"

You spin around slowly, admiring the bizarre cleanliness and softly lit glow.

"Yeah. It was the last part of the loop I did. Is it good? I wanted it to look nice. Didn't want to go snoopin' around in your room either, so."

You carefully sit down on the edge of the sleeping platform, staring at the deep shadows cast onto Dave's bedroom wall. He sits up, rubbing your arm and snaking a hand around your waist. You don't dare look at him, and it wouldn't matter anyway, because your vision blurs with tears.

"Kat?" He asks you tentatively, and you nod, finally releasing a snuffle. "Oh, baby."

He pulls you down onto him, and you lay there, getting your gross fluids all over one of his nice suits.

"I'm sorry," you try to whisper, and it comes out too loud and hoarse as per usual. "I'm sorry, I'm just. I'm overwhelmed."

"Oh," he whispers back (at an appropriate volume).

"I love you," you blurt out, and bury yourself harder into his shoulder. "I love you so much, not even pity or hate, it's something else, and it's so strong and I can't believe you did all this and you tried to end it with candles. And now I'm crying all over your effort."

He tightens his hold around you, and makes a small noise. You lift your head slightly, and find his glassy eyes, framed with dark circles and an expression of mixed exhaustion and relief. Gently, he brushes a stray curl out of your face.

"I uh. I mean, not to make you feel bad, I really don't want to make you feel bad about this, but I want to impress you? You obviously have expectations about shit and like. I wanted to give you that. I want… to be that for you."

You kiss him again, careful of your fangs, with your hands carefully and shakily holding his face. You feel a hand rubbing your back, and another avoiding your ass entirely and grabbing onto the back of your thigh to hoist you closer to his face. You think you're getting better at this. You've done it before, but you've never really had a chance to practice.

You don't want to think about whether Dave's ever practiced. You don't think he has, though; he keeps clinking your teeth together and cursing.

Eventually you pull away and he gasps for breath, which is weird ‘cause like, didn't he breathe through his nose? You were breathing through your nose, it was easy. You nuzzle against him. "I don't really care about these sorts of things, you know. I mean, I love it, I love the effort and all the stuff you gave me, and the food and the candles and even the movie? A little? But I don't have expectations of you to do these things."

"But you love romance shit. I'm literally your love interest."

"That's just fiction? I mean yeah, you're my love interest but I don't care about elaborate displays of affection, just that it fits the characters and it helps develop their relationship."

"What… you wrote a whole book where we bone and go on fancy dates, bro. The fuck."

"What? That's for the story." You turn your head to look at him, but he's avoiding your eyes. "I don't care about dates in practice. It's a shitty bodice ripper, I need stuff to flesh out their relationship and dates are easy. Plus, they're like super fucking common for the genre, so it's fun to make up elaborate ideas, and it can end in them having extremely passionate sex, which is the whole point of the book anyway."

Dave frowns. "You do have fantasies though. Like you cannot lie to my damn face and tell me you don't have fantasies."

"Ok, so maybe I do? What the fuck is wrong with that??"

"Because you won't tell me what you want from me? What do you want from me? Like, you never went 'hey Dave, I don't care about the part where we ride a ferris wheel or fuck some candles, here's what would actually make you the perfect love interest for me specifically, sorry I'm so confusing with my mixed messages and insane amounts of romance related media that I shove into your face at all times, but that actually won't cut it if you want to be my boyfriend. Oh no, you just have to go through hoops until you figure it the fuck out, you dumbfuck shitsponge.'"

You blink at him. "My fantasy is us doing what we normally do, but you're in love with me and we're dating."

The minute you say it you know it's true. It really is what all your fantasies break down into: Dave being attracted to you, and you being able to have a relationship with him. That's it. Show's over.

Dave gives you an expression you don't fully recognize, and then to your horror his face crumples.

You've seen Dave cry. You first hugged him on the meteor, when you couldn't take how alone he looked after the first few times that you accidentally saw him huddled behind a piece of furniture, silently shaking with his fists bunched tight into his cape. This is a different experience.

He's loud, taking huge gasping breaths and shaking, and you realize that you've never seen him cry because of you before. You also realize, belatedly, that he hasn't slept in nearly a day and a half, and has eaten like one meal and some shitty carnival food.

You hold him close as he shakes and you think, like a stupid asshole, wow what a role reversal. You breathe deeply, and he slowly begins to copy you, like you both learned to do when you were kids. He gulps in his air and stays still for you to wipe at his eyes with your shirt.

You stay quiet, until he stops and just holds onto you, his head turned downward so you can't see his face any longer. Stiltedly, you ask "do you want to be my boyfriend?"

"Yeah, fucking obviously you oblivious fucking douche, we established this weeks ago what is wrong with you oh my god. God christ fuck I'm going to die. My heart is going to explode from stress because my stupid ass not-boyfriend let me go through all this bullshit to get him to consider me a viable romantic option and guess what? He's like 'be yourself Dave' like some cheesy asshole from a 90s Disney special."

"Why are you calling me your not-boyfriend if I'm now your boyfriend?"

"Are we boyfriends??"

"Yeah?"

"Ok well- good??"

"Yeah??"

"Can we make out."

"Yeah."

Dave furiously mashes your faces together, crawling on top of you and trying to tear his own jacket off at the same time. You grab his ass and he gives a delighted _mph_ into your mouth, before pulling at the hem of your sweater vest. You come to your senses around the time his hands start hiking up your shirt, and you grab his wrists and pull away.

"Hey, you have got to fucking sleep."

He frowns at you, his forehead creasing, and you want nothing more than to take it back and keep going. "Don't say anything. We can have sex later. Like, after a nap."

He perks up immediately. "A nap?"

"Uh… sure? But you've been up for like two days, I don't want to accidentally fuck a corpse if you end up dying on me."

"Ew?? Gross??? Dude???"

"Go to sleep, Dave."

"How'm I supposed to sleep if you've got me thinkin' about corpse fucking. I'm all nervous now."

"What, you think a corpse is going to come out of nowhere and I'll fuck it in front of you? You're scared of being cucked by some bones?"

"Well… you know…"

"Don't say boners."

"Boners."

"I'm leaving you."

You get up and he grabs your middle screeching, only letting go when you inform him that the candles could burn your apartment down, and you need to extinguish them.

Once in the dark, you manage to take off your clothes and climb back into Dave's bed without too much self consciousness, where you find Dave wearing a full t-shirt and jeans. He instantly grabs hold of you, snuggling against your chest.

"Karkat," he tells you very seriously, "I just figured out the coolest trick."

"Is it dickfingers," you sigh.

"Yeah, it's dickfingers," he tries to seriously inform you, failing to not laugh once he reaches the second half of the word.

You hold him through his exhausted giggles, and he stills when you kiss the top of his head. "Kat…"

"Hm?"

"I really love you," he whispers. "I haven't said it enough, but I really love you."

You bite at your lip, really wishing this dumbass didn't make it so he'd probably have a heart attack if he fucked you right now. "I love you too," you whisper back, and he pulls you down into a kiss that manages to last about three seconds before his head lolls back onto the sleepbrick.

You watch your boyfriend, in the silence of his room, able to see him perfectly in the dark. You stroke back his hair and think about what you would like to do when he awakens, but find yourself unable to care. Instead you close your eyes and focus on his breathing, admitting to yourself at last that fantasy can't truly compare to the reality you physically hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the fic! I might add a bonus chapter/one shot sequel later, but this is what I had planned to end it on. Other weird bullshit is to come, specifically of the Dabethan variety
> 
> You can find me on Twitter @phd_in_nakk, and you're welcome to talk to me in the Dabethan discord server:
> 
> https://discord.gg/xvd7s7Y


End file.
